Need a Hand?
by Lamebutsecretelyawesomenerd
Summary: Four's been in the Dauntless Mental Institution for Youth for too long. Tris just got here, but isn't quite as independent as she thinks. Four wants to help, but, really, what can a mute, depressed, damaged good do for a broken soul?
1. Chapter 1: Piece of Cake

**A/N Hello, all! Thank you so much for reading this story! I am Jello Cello, your humble servant, and I hope to get this new story up and running! Please comment to let me know how you like it, what I should add or take away, what you want to see, etc** **… I will do my best! Thanks :)**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothin'. 33**

Four had always wanted to die on his birthday. It was just something he had always thought, something that had always had a strange appeal. He had thought it since he was quite young, actually. Of course, when he thought about death as a little kid, he wasn't as much of a fucked-up eighteen-year-old, well, now nineteen-year-old.

Today was a special day for Four. It was his nineteenth birthday. But that's not why it was special. It was the one year anniversary of his death. And he was celebrating it at the Dauntless Mental Institution for Youth. DMIY. Not a great acronym.

Four's day began as usual, waking up at 3:30 in the morning, thinking in bed, getting ready, and writing one solitary line with a dry erase marker in his room's bathroom mirror. That day, he had chosen a quote he had told himself every day since years before when he heard a stupid kid scream it on the television.

 _You can't define me._

This had possessed different meaning for every stage of his life. But it never meant, and would never mean, that he was healed. He would be forever broken.

The nurses had already done their morning wake-up rounds as he was exiting the room for breakfast. He nodded his head in greeting to Christina and Tori, two of his closest...acquaintances. He didn't have any friends. And that was just the way he liked it. He carried his composition book, as always, in case someone decided to strike up a conversation. He ate his usual breakfast, cereal and some weird liquid they gave him in a styrofoam cup. He hated styrofoam. Eric, his least favorite of the patients - whoops, residents -, purposefully scraped a cup with his plastic fork, causing Four's entire body to be wracked with shivers. Well, that was a great way to start off his birthday. Before he knew it, a cake was being rolled in and people were singing. To him. He had never celebrated his birthday before. At least, not like this. He simply plastered a fake smile on his face and swayed slightly to the extremely off key song. This confirmed his suspicions that everyone in this asylum was tone deaf. But the singing was cut short by faint, but audible yelling. Everyone knew what that meant. Some excitedly bounced from their chairs, while others groaned in disgust. Not at the fact that we get a new possible friend, but at the fact that they're struggling. They all-well, most of them-had struggled against the guards, desperate to be free. But they were only met with lots of muscle and more gushy therapy sessions. They all knew it was pointless to struggle.

They made their way to the entrance, Four grabbing a slice of cake as he went. But it wasn't for him. They laid their eyes on the new one. Then, bored, now that the hopeless struggle was over, went back to eat cake. But Four stayed behind. Because Four remembered how he struggled continuously to adjust. He remembered how he wished someone had been there to help him. All through his life, he was stuck with painful memories of abandonment and loss. So, he stayed behind. But he was still hidden in the shadows, watching every move this new kid made. It was fun, watching the girl's greyish-blue eyes dart back and forth between the guards and the open door behind them. And then, she made the stupid mistake of trying to run. By now, everyone had gone back to the cafeteria and Frank watched, observing her agility. She had actually somehow managed to make it out the door, but, before long, was being dragged back inside. Ha, she actually thought she could escape. Well, she was plopped down into a chair, seemingly defeated. The eighteen or so - Four estimated - year old scanned the room, the look of fire replaced by wide eyed curiosity. Her eyes met with Four's, one set of deep eyes to the other. Understanding he had been noticed, Four reluctantly stepped from the safety of his dark corner and into the light. The new kid slowly stood up and made her way over, glancing quickly at the guards. Seeing they were occupied, she extended her hand.

"Tris."

Four did not take his hand, nor did he introduce himself. Because he was an idiot. He had thought it would be fine to just come over and help the new kid adjust. Well, guess what, adjusting means talking! Nope. So, Four quickly shoved the plate of cake into the other kid's outstretched hand before taking off back to the cafeteria. And so, the new kid, Tris, began her new life at DMIY. Still not a good acronym.

Tris never got to eat her cake. She was quite upset about that. It looked good. And, she felt obligated to enjoy it since that kid had brought it for her.

But it had been confiscated by the security guards almost immediately. Tris glumly accepted this and waited for a while before she was led into a small, private room. A man in a lab coat asked for her phone and metal accessories. She gave him her phone and bracelet, but decided to keep on her necklace. Of course, the man discovered this as he was patting her down, so her Abnegation necklace that Caleb had given her ironically was taken. It was originally a joke, but after a few years, the irony turned dark. Probably because she was an antisocial weirdo. Or maybe because of her near death experience with alcohol poisoning. Either way, she was known as the Negation of the Abnegation, the freak that was entirely self involved, suffered addictions, and had absolutely no friends. The man in the coat looked at her expectantly and Tris realized she must've been asked a question.

"Hmmm?"

The man just rolled his eyes before asking her date of birth and full name again. The next question was a bit of a struggle for Tris,

"When was the last time you consumed any alcoholic beverages?" Tris stuttered. She couldn't remember. Sometime last night, probably, but she had woken up with a splitting headache in front of the hospital around 1:00 this morning.

"10 hours ago..."

It came out more as a question than a statement. But she was underage. And the man knew this, half-glaring, half-staring at the uncomfortable 18 year old in front of him. Tris felt the familiar rumbling of her stomach, signaling that she was about to throw up. She made it to the bathroom just in time. A nurse entered and spoke in what was supposed to be a soothing voice. She awkwardly stood off to the side as Tris continued to flip her organs inside out. At last, she was done and made her way back into the private room. But not before running into the kid from before. She had stared at ground, silently ordering it to steady beneath her. It didn't listen. Before she knew it, there was another pair of feet in her field of vision and then her body crashed forcefully into the other person. They both ended up on the ground, Tris yelping slightly as she lost sense of his surroundings. She mumbled an apology and glanced up, embarrassed, at the boy. But Four just shrugged and helped her back to her feet. Tris quickly thanked him and made her way back to the room. By then, the man in the white coat was already gone.

 **A/N If it sounds familiar** **…;)**


	2. Chapter 2: Let's try this again

**A/N Hey, guys! Sorry for this super duper short, lame chapter, but I will post a long one soon! Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me :) and for IceFire15 for the comment! Please let me know what you think of the story! Love you all!**

Four had felt bad about his "welcoming" actions. So, he brainstormed ideas for how to make himself appear more...he didn't even know, he wasn't necessarily a "people person". He had been on his way to the bathroom when the solution hit him. Literally. He glanced cautiously at the girl lying on the ground next to him. She seemed more stunned than Four, so Four quickly leapt up and brought the girl to her feet. He didn't hear what the girl was saying under her breath, but it didn't matter to him. He just shrugged and dragged the girl up with him. He waved goodbye before taking off again towards the bathroom, wincing slightly at the familiar smell of bile. And he felt bad about the cake.

 **A/N Have a great day! Love, Jello Cello. Also, sorry for this self promo, but my other story, Slipping, is almost at 6,000 views! I put a lot of work and love into that story years ago, so please read it? Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3: Don't stand on chairs

**A/N As promised, here is a long chapter! It takes a slightly dark turn here, but hopefully, you still enjoy it! Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me and my erratic update schedule! Love you all!**

 **Jello Cello**

Tris was given a room, but she was sharing. That was fine with her, she just hoped his roommate wouldn't care about her strange habits. Or her cuts. And the most worrying thought for Tris was that her roommate would hear her sleep crying. She hadn't known she cried until her brother had just recently spent the night with her. When Caleb had asked her why she was crying, Tris didn't have an answer. All she had was a "sorry" and a sniffle. But Tris hadn't found out how to stop the consistent night time tears, so she hoped her roommate was a sound sleeper.

She hauled her one bag (she hadn't exercised in a while, but she was still skinny-she found that strange) into the room. She examined the room carefully and slowly sat on the edge of the unoccupied bed. The two beds were across the room from one another, both equal distances from the small circular window in the middle. Tris got up and attempted to glance out the window, but it was too high. She grabbed a chair from the closet and set it in front. Then, she stood on it and peered outside. It was dull and gray. The clouds were crowding into the open sky and she watched a group of kids run down the street, probably ditching school. Tris knew that feeling, energy coursing through her veins, telling her she could do anything, pushing her forward, guiding him into the blinding, unmistakable light.

"Miss."

She jumped three feet in the air, bumping her head against the hard ceiling. Startled, she missed the chair on her way back down, crashing onto the floor.

"And that, miss, is why we do not allow residents to stand on chairs."

Tris looked up at the nurse who was standing over her. Her head still throbbed and she buried her bright red face in her arms in embarrassment.

She attempted to pick her up and guide her over to the bed, but Tris was a huge mess, dizzy and still a little nauseous. She managed to stand up, but quickly keeled over and just gave up, lying on the floor face up. The nurse gave up, too, eventually just standing up and leaning on the doorframe.

"Anyways, Ms. Beatrice Prior, I came to introduce you to your roommate."

Tris looked up and finally noticed the upside-down cake boy (whose name he still didn't know) standing outside the doorway. He waved at Tris and she waved back shyly. Her eyes met the boy's dark blue orbs, drawing her in. She tried to see into his mind, to figure him out, but quickly found that something was blocking her, stopping her from learning anything more.

"Tris, this is your roommate, Four. I will leave you two to get to know each other. You both are very nice children. Now, please let me know if you have any problems with this arrangement. It was not optimal to have to pair a girl and a boy for one room, but we are currently unable to change the situation. We trust that you will behave according to our protocol, and that you do not make any trouble."

Four, the cake boy, broke his gaze and Tris realized he had been laughing. At her. It wasn't unusual, she wasn't hurt by this in any way, but she was rather surprised. Four's small body had been hacked with silent laughter, his mouth open, but his shoulders shaking up and down. Tris witnessed this site and a smile crossed her face. Before long, she had broken out in laughter. Se could only imagine what she had looked like, jumping and falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Once their laughter had died down, they noticed that the nurse had left them. Four tentatively entered the room and sat on his bed. Tris stood and made her way over to her own, wincing at the chorus of creaks and moans from the old mattress. The room was silent for a few minutes, Tris awkwardly thinking of a conversation to start. She wondered continually why Four didn't say anything; she was the new one, after all.

Eventually, Tris stood and walked over across the room, about to sit next to Four. But Four had, at the same time, decided to move to the other side of his bed, tripping the girl and causing her to fall directly on top of him. Tris stuttered out a sorry as she examined the crushed boy beneath her. Four just chuckled - silently, again - and moved back to the side of the bed. He had allowed space between him and the edge of the bed, so Tris decided it was okay for her to sit down.

"I don't think we were properly introduced," Tris started. She held out her hand to Four.

"I'm Tris. And I'm almost positive your name's Four?"

Four just nodded and shook her hand. He reached for a notebook, which he had placed on his nightstand.

Tris watched curiously as Four flipped through many pages of drawings and sprawled out sentences. Four began writing out a message.

 _Hi. Welcome. Oh yeah, sorry for that sucky introduction earlier. What brings you here?_

It took Tris a few seconds before she realized what was happening. She finally spoke,

"Oh, don't worry about earlier. I was kinda shaken up, you know, after being dragged in here, and all. And alcoholism. And some other messed up...shit. How long have you been here?"

 _Oh. Wow. And, too many years. It'll be a week until my 5 year "anniversary". And yeah, depression, messed up shit, and I don't speak, too. Yup, this life kind of, sort of sucks._

At this point, Four looked up and was met face to face with Tris. He hadn't realized Tris had leaned in to read his note. Their faces were less than a few inches apart. Four and Tris both self-consciously bounced back, stunned. Tris quickly cleared her throat and picked up the notebook that had been thrown between them carelessly in the midst of...that, whatever it was. Tris's assumptions had been confirmed; Four wasn't a weirdo, like her, he just didn't speak.

She didn't know what to say. Then, she couldn't help but ask.

"How old are you? I mean, you're kind of...hard to figure out?"

 _Yeah, I'm 19...today._

"Woah, man. Happy birthday. What an awesome birthday, Halloween. I don't have a gift! Well, I guess I'm your birthday...present..."

That last part was...probably the worst fucking thing she could have possibly said in that moment.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm just fucking tired."

She glanced embarrassedly at Four, trying to will the heat out of her cheeks. But her humiliation was met only with a smile. She was glad Four was so...kind, so accepting. That was something Tris had never really experienced from anyone.

She decided to continue her story.

"I woke up this morning really fucking early and feeling like shit. Yup, I woke up in the hospital. Well, in front of it." Four very visibly flinched at the word "hospital". Tris wondered what kinds of memories he had experienced there. She stored that thought in the back of his mind, continuing on, but she couldn't remember much. She just talked for what seemed like hours about how her parents had dropped her off here, signing two sheets of paper and just leaving her to the hands of strangers. She got up and stood back on the chair-but not before poking her head out the door to make sure no nurses were watching-and glanced once again out the window. The sky had cleared and the sun seemed to tell her that it was around 1 or 2 in the afternoon. Yeah, she did Boy Scouts when she was younger. She jumped down quickly from the chair as she heard footsteps in the hallway.

"Fuck," was all she had gotten out before running into the bathroom. Because she was an idiot. She was a fucking idiot who liked to jump off of chairs while being nauseous with her new - hot - roommate watching.

 **A/N Hope you enjoyed! Comments would be greatly greatly greatly appreciated! Love you all, thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4: Words

**A/N Hey guys! So, overall, my chapters are gonna be a little short just because I really don't have the time to be writing this story, what with school and sports and extracurriculars, so please forgive me! Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story :)**

 **Chapter 4:**

Tris stared at the mirror for a long, long time. Not looking at herself, but looking at what was written in bright red marker. She couldn't stop reading it, over and over and over again. She just couldn't understand it. She understood it so clearly; fuck, she said it. She had said it when she was piss drunk and her friends dared her to go on the news. She had screamed these exact words at a surprised camera man that was taping a story about halloween years ago. Then, after that, one of her "friends" had somehow convinced her to jump off the roof. So yeah, she broke her hand and shattered a few ribs. Later on, she found out that she may not be able to talk again, a few pieces from her ribs had punctured part of her lung. And they were right, she wasn't able to talk for a few months. But eventually, when she was alone, she would sing. It was painful at first, singing with previously punctured lungs. But eventually, she had her voice back. She still didn't talk, though. Only sang alone in the shower. Before long, she was talking. And screaming. And crying. And cutting. And drinking. And taking the oh-so-familiar pills. And waking up without knowing where she was, or sometimes even who she was. And crying. Again. And again. And again. It was vicious cycle. It was a deadly battle. And she was sent here to win it.

 **Please comment any suggestions/how I could improve! Thank you, and have a wonderful day!**


	5. Chapter 5: Not alone anymore

**A/N Here we go again!**

Four was happy to have a roommate. He didn't like being alone. At least now, he didn't have to worry about the nurses that liked to come in while he was showering or sleeping, going through his personal belongings, invading his privacy. Not that privacy even exists in DMIY. And he didn't have to lie in the dark for hours, alone with his thoughts. But mostly, he was glad he didn't have to be alone for the rest of the time. Now, he had a nice friend (?) to keep him company. Unless, of course, the nice friend turned out to be like most of the others, finding him strange and weird - not that they weren't - and deciding to alienate him. He would be okay, but he liked this new kid. Oh yeah, Prior. Four thought that name was cool. But what was even cooler was her first name. Tris. He was stuck with "Tobias", which sounded cool for the first decade and of his life, but then got a bit boring. He still didn't tell Tris about his previous birthday, of course. He didn't want to freak her out too much on his first day.

He helped Tris unpack her belongings, trying his best to give her space and not study the couple of family pictures stored in with her other clothes. Tris left the room with the photos before Four had had a real chance to observe them. After a few minutes, Tris returned, and Four didn't realized he had let out a sigh of relief until Tris glanced at him.

"You okay?" A look of worry clouded her face, but soon passed as Four nodded his head, his cheeks burning. Tris smiled and brushed her long knotted hair out of her eyes. She wasn't really sure what she looked like. She probably should have looked in the mirror instead of staring at the message that, she presumed, Four had written. Tris almost didn't want to see what she looked like. Soon, curiosity got the best of her, and she made her way into the bathroom, accidentally brushing past Four on the way. She blushed, thankful that Four was past her. Then, she glanced towards the mirror. Ouch.

 **A/N Thanks for reading :) Love you all! Review if you want to? Have a wonderful day!**


	6. Chapter 6: Music Therapy

**A/N I apparently made some bold story turns in this chapter (did that make any sense ?) Thank you for sticking with me all the way to this chapter! So far, my stories are less than 20 views away from hitting 18k, so thank you so much to everyone that has helped me get here! I love you all! It means so much to know that people appreciate my writing, especially because I have never considered myself a good writer. Thank you. Love, Jello Cello**

Music therapy was something that had been added into Four's schedule over the past few months of being here at Planetary. The therapists had been convinced that listening to music would somehow lessen his want to kill himself. He wasn't quite sure how it worked, but he knew something was making him happier. But he wasn't sure whether that was the medication, the music, the isolation, or the therapy. Whatever it was, it made him feel at least a little better. Plus, they let him listen to whatever kind of music he liked. So, he picked up the CD of Muse and played some of his favorites.

He had left for his session when Tris had disappeared. He guessed she was in the bathroom, but assumed Tris would want privacy. Plus, Four had to attend his appointment, anyway. Music therapy was definitely his favorite time. He got to be in a room by himself, listening to everything he loved. Everything and anything. He didn't know many current songs, being locked up in this place for a while, but he at least had a great taste in music. He just really liked it. It made sense. He liked when something was genius, whether it be a melody, a lyric, a breath. Plus, he sometimes hummed. When he was completely alone and wasn't under any kind of pressure, he would be able to hum. He didn't sing, afraid of being heard and of what he would sound like and he just couldn't, but rather hummed peacefully. Sometimes, if he got up early enough, he would be able to do it. It was always a huge surprise every time, but he had a right to be surprised.

It had officially been 5 years. He hadn't spoken in 5 years. Not since his...incident. Not since his death. Damn those great doctors. Damn those wonderful physicians that save the dead and bring them back from Hell. Four had been so close, so ready. He was so prepared to die. He had already had a life of hell, how different would the real place be? Frankly, he didn't care. He didn't want to care. So he just didn't care.

 **A/N No pressure, but comment if you want to! Thank you, and I love you all! Also, please comment if something doesn** **'** **t make sense and needs to be clarified. Thank you!**


	7. Chapter 7: A Small Fright

**Sorry it took so long! Thank you for reading this far, happy November, and love you all! Comment if you want to :)**

 **Chapter 7:**

When Tris got back from the bathroom, Four was gone. She almost panicked before realizing that the residents here don't just sit around all day. Of course, Tris didn't find what she was looking for in the bathroom. What kind of place place would allow a patient in a mental asylum to keep scissors in the bathroom? Yes, Tris was still the same idiot that she was minutes before. She shoved the family pictures into her sweatshirt pocket and started out into the hallway.

She was walking through the hall when a voice called to her. She turned to see a man in a white coat half-running, half-walking towards her awkwardly.

"Tris, it's nice to finally meet you. I'm sorry for not meeting you earlier, we just discharged one of our longest residents. He was here for a few too many years." He noticed the worry on Tris's face. "But I am positive we can get you out of here in no time. I promise. Ah yes, now, where were we? Oh yes, I am the head doctor here at Dauntless. My name is Dr. Pedrad, but feel free to call me by my first name, Zeke. Have you been given a tour yet?" Tris shook her head and Dr. Pedrad led her through many corridors and pointed to the different wings.

"Over here, we have Christina and Tori. Christina is from Chicago, too. They have been here a few months now. I'm sure you will befriend them quickly. Great girls, them two."

Christina waved happily at Tris, so she slowly waved back. Tori said a quick 'sup' and turned back to their card game.

"Christina," Dr. Pedrad called to him. "Have you seen Four? Ah yes, how could I forget! He's in music therapy."

Dr. Pedrad seemed to be a very forgetful person. Tris wasn't sure what to think about that…

"Music therapy is a new program we added. Studies have proven that music is beneficial to mental health, so we thought we would give it a try. Four volunteered to be our guinea pig. I think he just volunteered because we let him play whatever he wants."

Tris could hear the slightest echo of a bass, indicating to her that they were growing closer to Four. She kind of half-smiled, glad to see her...friend(?) again. Meanwhile, Dr. Pedrad was still talking.

"...We don't let the nurses supervise him until he presses a button to let us know we are welcome. We agreed that he would get privacy for half an hour. We thought it was only fair." He stopped talking as they neared the door. There was a one way mirror, allowing Tris to see inside, but Four had no idea they were there. Tris didn't think that was fair. But, nonetheless, she peered inside. It was one of those rooms she had seen on TV and stuff, cushioned and spotless white walls. She watched curiously, searching for Four. She had leaned close to the window to get a clearer view, but she couldn't see Four.

"You should know, although he can't see you-"

"AAAAAHHHHHHHH"

Four's face had suddenly popped up in the window in front of Tris, Dr. Pedrad's voice interrupted by Tris's high-pitched scream. Tris had winded up on the floor, clutching her chest, making sure her heart was still beating after skipping 20 beats in a row. Dr. Pedrad decided to finish his sentence (a little too late).

"-he can hear our footsteps..."

"Fuuuckkk, that gave me a heart attack"

"Language, Ms. Prior."

"Oh yeah, sorry."

Dr. Pedrad took out a key ring and flipped through the keys until he found the one he had been searching for. He stepped towards the door, unlocking it quickly and stepping backwards to let Four out. Tris could still hear the music playing from the room. Muse. Well, she was almost sure she and Four would get along. Anyone with Tris's taste in music deserves to be her friend. But of course, on the rare occasion that someone shared her taste in music, she discovered they were fake...or they just thought she was too weird to be friends with. So, Tris still continued her life as an introvert with social anxiety, no friends, and some seriously messed up shit. Fun.

Four had stumbled out of the doorway after shutting off the music, laughing silently. He had practically made Tris shit herself! But Tris seemed okay - despite the fact that she was on the ground - so Four laughed in good nature. His silent laughter once again wracked his body and he shook uncontrollably. He watched as Dr. Pedrad tried to peel Tris's body from the floor. Tris went limp, all of a sudden, and Four stopped laughing. He ran up to Tris, guilt laced in his face, mixed with fear, worry, anxiety, and confusion. He started to panic, looking frantically at Dr. Pedrad for help. His calm demeanor only worried Four more, and he almost started to cry. Tris wasn't moving and her eyes were shut. Four crawled over and listened to see if she was breathing. At that moment, Tris's eyes flung open and she sat up, slightly blinded by the light. She just happened to sit up into Four was. So, they collided awkwardly for the third time and both fell back onto the floor. Tris spoke after the red had left her cheeks slightly and the shock passed.

"Gotcha."

It came out again more as a question than a statement. She tried to get up, but slipped, as usual, over her socks - her shoes had been confiscated during her transition period (she never got them back). She started to laugh, glancing sideways at Four, hoping he didn't see that. But he did. Great. Of course, this resulted in laughter. So much laughter.

Dr. Pedrad eventually cleared his throat, bringing the teens back to reality. It had felt so good to laugh, so nice to take a break from his issues. So nice to be happy again. But Tris's doubts that the feeling would last were confirmed. As if a tsunami had hit her, she instantly felt as if she was being crushed by a bag of bricks. Her whole soul seemed to be exhausted just by thinking about it. But then she looked at Four's still-smiling face. And she let out one last laugh, one last happy sound, before sinking back into her misery.


	8. Chapter 8: Rules

**Chapter 8:**

Tris eventually got what she had originally wanted. After departing from Four, Dr. Pedrad had finished his tour and led her back to his office.

"Can I have a pair of scissors?"

Dr. Pedrad nodded reluctantly and directed her to return them after use. Tris wasn't planning anything, she just needed to _alter_ a photo. She took out her only family pictures that she had brought with her and started to cut the glossy page. She had carefully cut around her and her brother, letting her parents fall to the ground after finishing. She picked the scraps up off the floor and discarded them into the trash. Then, she returned the scissors and listened to Dauntless' long list of rules.

Always keep the medical bracelet on.

Visitors will be allowed during visiting hours: 9:00-4:00.

No shoelaces or drawstrings

No sharp objects permitted in rooms or during unsupervised times.

Take medication correctly and willingly (even if Tris resisted, she would be given the medication one way or another)

Eat what is given to you

Be in bed by "lights out"

No wallets, electronics, or bags

Stay in permitted clothes only (Tris wondered if she would be allowed to wear her band t-shirts)

No unpermitted relationships (Dr. Pedrad had watched Tris carefully for that one - he had seen something before, something a little bit...strange)

Do not be late to scheduled activities

Outdoor time must be spent outdoors

Do not disrespect other patients or nurses/staff.

Do not lie

Do not steal

Do not bribe

Do not leave the building without supervision-even to go into the courtyard

Do not eat or drink anything without asking a nurse

Do not leave your room until nurses permit you.

Spend your free time in the lounge, the cafeteria, or the group therapy room

Do not threaten or harm other patients

Do not stand on chairs (she was definitely glared at for that one)

Do not bounce or jump on or from a bed.

Do not attempt self-harm or suicide

Do not sing disruptively (Tris wasn't sure if she could do that one)

And the list went on forever. Tris listened. She wasn't a goody-two-shoes, but she didn't like trouble. Or attention. She figured that if she just followed the rules and laid low and didn't make any trouble, she could just blend into the pristine walls and hallways. She was soon dismissed for lunch. Tris wasn't given a watch, but there were clocks in almost every hall and room. She saw the time was 9:00 in the afternoon. And, as usual, Tris was lost. She was still walking the halls when she heard laughing. She turned the corner and found three boys around her age cackling menacingly. They had backed someone into a corner. Tris could see a boy's fist clenching, straining to see the rest of him. She could hear, though, that he was crying. The sight made Tris's heart wrench and she fought the urge to throw up and scream at the same time. She wasn't sure why he felt the need to protect this kid. She didn't know who he was, or even how to help him. She looked around quickly, but didn't see a soul in sight. The boys were talking to him now in low voices. Tris strained her ears to hear what they were saying, trying to get a grasp on the situation. She turned her attention back to the boys before realizing something that made his heart stop.

 **A/N sorry it took so long to upload.** **Just went through a bit of a tough situation (not to mention** ** _that_** **election tho), but I** **'** **m okay now and ready to post more! Thank you so much for sticking with me. I know that this may not make too much sense, but please let me know if you actually like the story/what you want to see in it! Thank you love you all 3**


	9. Chapter 9: The darker side of Dauntless

**Love you all! Happy Thanksgiving to all that celebrate! So grateful for everyone thank you so much for everything :) 3**

After Tris had left with Dr. Pedrad, Four remembered what he had written on his mirror. He rushed back to his room and entered the bathroom. He stared at the message and hoped Tris hadn't read it. But how could she not? Tris had been in the bathroom and there was no way to miss the bright red message across his reflection. Four's soul fell as he buried his ashamed face in his hands. He was now sure that everyone officially thought he was pretty horribly fucked up. But who wasn't in this place? It was a fucking mental institution, for crying out loud! But he was still one of the worst patients. He had been here longer than most of the patients, so, not a great reputation. But his spirits began to lift as he thought of Tris. Tris was new, so Four still had a chance to make a friend. Just the thought of Tris made Four smile. Four didn't want to admit this to himself, but he thought Tris was...attractive. Not that Four was attracted to her (or so he told himself), but he just thought Tris was better-looking than most of the Chicago population. Yeah, Four was satisfied with that answer. He checked the clock and noticed it was nearing lunch time. He decided to visit the lounge to see if they had any new comics before lunch.

He set out with his composition notebook in one hand, a small, short pencil (the only kind that they allowed) wedged in between the cover and the first page. He gripped it against his chest, almost protectively. He wasn't afraid of anyone taking it, he just didn't really want anyone to see what he wrote at night by the moonlight. The pages were filled with song lyrics, stories, music, drawings, and just words. Random words that just came into his mind would be quickly jotted down. He didn't know why he wrote them all down, it just seemed to calm him. It was one way to release emotions.

He had turned into the lounge when he spotted Eric and his group. Four immediately turned around. He wasn't scared, he just didn't want to fight. He knew that there were no nurses in the lounge in between 12:45 and 1:00 usually, so he thought it better to just find a comic another time. But no, he didn't get to run away. They had already seen him. It was too late.

"Fuck-up" was one of Four's least favorite insults. He didn't dislike a lot of words, but that wasn't one that he necessarily liked. Even though it was scrawled in his notebook multiple times. But that didn't matter, it was for him, anyways.

"Son of a bitch," Eric spat at him. It wasn't the first time this had happened. It happened at least once a week, sometimes more. He just sucked it up, just like he always did. But that didn't mean it didn't suck. Yeah, life still sucked.

He didn't respond to Eric. He didn't turn around when called by his "name". He didn't acknowledge anything. That was the first mistake. Before he had time to react to the footsteps that were getting increasingly louder, a hand was tightly gripped on his shoulder, spinning him around. Four winced at the tight grip internally, but didn't let it show. He let his eyes glaze over, something he had always done when enduring something he didn't, couldn't, give a shit about. But that, too, was a bad mistake. Eric punched him. He didn't care, but violence was violence. And Four sucked when it came to that. So, basically, Eric used the fact that Four was weak, given that he hadn't exercised well in almost a year, and mute to his advantage. He had backed him into the corner in no time, dragging him from the hall to the lounge, away from any possible prying eyes. Four gave up even struggling.

Eric spat at him and told his "friends" to join him. They had surrounded Four in a matter of seconds, backing him up until his back came in contact with the white wall. He hoped there would be no blood on the wall today. He spoke - well, thought - too soon. Eric grabbed him by the hair and jerked his head back into the wall. It made a _thunk_ sound and he felt his head start to pound. He hoped really really hard that it wasn't bleeding. He didn't want to be questioned.

"Does that hurt you? Oh, I'm so so sorry, my little baby," Eric said in his fake, angelic tone. He grabbed Four and repeated the action.

"Oh no, am I hurting your precious, little head?"

He did it again. But, of course, Four's stoic face didn't betray him.

"If it hurts, you should really say something. Huh? What was that? I'm sorry, I can't hear you," he put his hand up to his ear in mock concern.

"What was that? I can't hear you! Do it again? Okay, if you insist."

The bastard did it again. By now, Four really didn't give even half a fuck. He didn't even give a quarter of a fuck. He just wanted it to stop.

Eric finally let go of Four's head and moved on to insults.

He pulled his foot back and kicked Four hard in the shin. And then he kicked him again. And again. And again. Four didn't feel it. He was more focused on the mysterious nails on his fingers that were digging into his palm. There was no way he could cut at this place, but when things got bad, he did press into his skin with his fingernails. It was nice, the pain. He almost enjoyed it. He finally noticed that the kicking had stopped. In fact, Eric had been pulled away from him. So had Eric's friends. They were all somewhere on the other side of the room. He heard a lot of swearing. He just shut his eyes and felt himself slowly drift away. Before blacking out from sheer exhaustion, he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in close. Then, he felt his tears being gently brushed away. He slowly managed to pry his eyes open, seeing only beautiful blue-gray circles of hope. Then, he saw black and only black.


	10. Chapter 10: Think fast

**Oh my goodness the amount of support I have been getting from you guys is absolutely, insanely incredible. I can not - in a million ways - even begin to express how grateful I am. Truly, thank you so much! I love you all! Thank you so much for your care and anticipation :) 3**

Tris was pretty fucking scared. She didn't know what happened before she had come to Dauntless, but she knew for sure that it was worse than the mere insults and kicking that she had just witnessed. She had tried to gauge the situation before jumping in, tried to plan her rescue. But, still, she had to act quickly. The boys were worsening Four's state by the second, and, conveniently, Tris could barely breathe, let alone function.

She heard footsteps from behind her. She spun around to see two burly security guards running toward her. She sidestepped to let them pass and watched as the boys heard the pounding feet. They quickly jumped backwards, away from Four. They attempted to half formulate a story through hand gestures and stuttering words, but Tris couldn't care less about what happened to them. She rushed over to Four and slipped her arm around the boy's shoulders. Four was already losing consciousness. And fast. He took one last glance at Tris before shutting his eyes. Tris winced and wiped the tears from Four's cheeks. She should have done something sooner. She should have helped him. Why couldn't she _think_?

"I'm sorry."

That was all she could get out before she choked on her own tears.

 **Have a great day, guys! I** **'** **ll try to get back soon!**


	11. Chapter 11: Eyes

Chapter 11:

Four was back in a hospital bed when he woke up. It was bright. Well, at least, brighter than he wanted it to be. But he didn't really care. Nothing really mattered. Suddenly, the memories came rushing back to him. He sat up straight in bed. He winced majorly and felt for the side of the bed railing, willing the world to stop spinning. Nothing helped. He huffed and laid back down, shutting his eyes slowly. He drifted back into a restless sleep, dreaming only of those mysterious, blue-gray eyes.

 **Sorry second upload first time something weird happened and all the coding showed up**

 **Also, I know that some people want a lot longer chapters, but I had probably the most tragic week of my entire life, so this was about all that I could muster out. Thank you for understanding. Also, thank you so much to everyone who is making very well educated guesses, predictions, showing me new ways to look at my writing, and giving me support! Cumulatively, I have hit 21,000 views on all of my stories, so thank you all so much!**


	12. Chapter 12: Visitation

**Chapter 12:**

"Come on! Let me just make sure he's okay. Please, he's my roommate, after all. I was the one who found him! I was there! I helped him get into the infirmary wing! I...I, just let me in!"

"Excuse me, Ms. Prior, but you are not allowed into this part of the residence! Only immediate family. Are you immediate family?"

"No, but-"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Prior, but you are not permitted in here."

"Well, I don't see any family in here, do you?"

"Well, Ma'am, then he does not have any family that would like to visit him. This does not validate your entrance."

"So...I'm still not going in, am I?"

"Ma'am," her face softened, "I know what it is like, my husband went into a vegetative state three months ago. But it is against policy."

Tris nodded and sat down on a chair outside of the wall, letting her head fall into her hands.

"Let her in."

Tris jumped, frightened by the sudden voice. She turned, grateful to be met by Dr. Pedrad.

"Go ahead, Tris. He should be waking up by now."

Tris practically jumped twenty feet in the air. She was worried. She wasn't quite sure what worried her. She knew that Four would be okay, she could tell the boy was strong. But she, herself, was still shocked by what she had witnessed. And heard.  
She half winced before letting out a final breath and stepping inside.


	13. Chapter 13: Eyes open

**Chapter 13:**

Four's eyes had just opened again. Once again, the bright lights blinded him, casting shadows of his figure on the tiled floor. He grew stiff and tense, nervous energy coursing through his veins. But he relaxed as the familiar setting started to process in his heavily drugged mind. He wasn't in the hospital, he was just in the infirmary wing. The sudden pressure that had clouded his chest and accelerated his heart beat dissipated and eventually disappeared. But nervousness once again smashed into him. In the best way possible. Well, the best form. And that form was Tris.

Tris was standing awkwardly in the doorway, waiting for a silent permission to enter. Four smiled as they made eye contact, and Tris took that as a friendly grant of permission. Four was feeling instantly better, but he realized that he had no way of communicating with her. He searched the room before finding a notebook next to his bed. But it wasn't alone. There was a pair of hands holding it. And arms attached to those hands. And a Tris attached to those arms. And Four panicked. As usual.


	14. Chapter 14: Awake

**Chapter 14:**

Tris had begun to absently flip through the composition book in her hands. But she stopped. She didn't want to invade Four's privacy. She knew for sure that she didn't appreciate when her parents did that to her. Her parents. Just the thought of them made Tris feel like lead had been poured into her body. She pulled out the slightly crumpled photos and stared at the happiness shining in her eyes. Graduation. High school years weren't great for her. She was just happy to get out. But then, sitting there and waiting, she began to see, even through the white creases, that her eyes weren't alive. Her mouth was smiling, but her eyes were broken, lost. Even two years ago, she was just as fucked-up. She didn't realize it. She didn't even know what broken was.

"Hi."

Her voice sounded weaker than she meant it to. She handed the notebook over to Four, their hands brushing against each other lightly. Both blushed and failed to conceal it. Before she could say more, Tris's head - and stomach - turned at the dinner bell. Four quickly took out the pencil and wrote to Tris.

 _I'm awake now. You don't have to stay._

"Are you kidding? Ha, I've waited here for hours. I'm not leaving now."

Four smiled. That was the first time he hadn't been abandoned within a few minutes. He didn't even know why Tris decided to wait. He didn't want to be a pity-project.

 _Why?_

"Why what? Why'd I wait?"

Four nodded.

"Well, I wanted to make sure you were okay. Also, I can't risk losing a friend on my first day."

Tris smiled widely. A grin pulled at Four's face, but his head pounded while trying to move it. He winced and worry flashed in Tris's eyes.

 _I'm okay._

"Rule number one: never trust anyone when they say that."


	15. Chapter 15: Tears

**Chapter 15:**

 _So...how long was I out?_

"Well, you passed out at about 1:00. It's 6:30 now."

 _Oh. Well, you ate lunch at least, right?_

"They really really pushed me to, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. Plus, I don't really have the strongest appetite. So, they brought me a tray of flavorless food," Four nodded knowingly at that, "and I stayed right outside."

 _Thanks._

"Don't mention it, Four."

His name rolled off of Tris's tongue nicely. They both smiled. Four moved his eyes from the foot of the bed to Tris. Their smiles grew as they made eye contact, both secretly noting that the other looked quite attractive when smiling. But they didn't know the other was thinking that. They couldn't even admit to themselves that they were thinking that. But nonetheless, they decided to befriend each other. Again. They promised to make the other smile again.

Four finally broke the long stare to write again.

 _Do you, um, know what's...happening?_

"Oh yeah, they said you had a minor concussion. What...um, what happened?"

Tris could have told him, could have told him that she knew, but she didn't want to be lectured for not doing more than just standing and watching. Plus, she wasn't really ready to admit that yet.

"Never mind you don't have to answer that. Your condition, it's not that bad, though."

But Four didn't really hear her attempt at comfort. He was too busy writing.

 _Don't worry. It's not always like this._

Tris could barely read it. Four's hands were shaking worse than an earthquake. Tris could see tears welling up in Four's beautiful eyes. Tris instantly reacted, worried about what had so quickly turned the boy from "okay" to breaking down. Okay was about the best they could get. But it's better than breaking down.

Four's face was buried in his hands as he finally let loose. He sobbed silently into the white sheets, turning them a pale gray.

"Hey. Four. Hey, Four, look at me."

Four didn't move, he just kept on crying.

Tris reached over from the side of the bed and cupped Four's chin, raising his red eyes to meet her own.

"What's wrong?"

Four just blinked. But he didn't write anything. He didn't do anything. He just sat and stared at Tris.

Tris didn't push his limit. Four had seemed to stop crying. They stopped moving, ceasing their breaths. They just stared into each other's eyes. Tris was making sure Four was okay. She was pretty uncomfortable. She wasn't used to people looking at her. Especially with the intensity that was coming from Four. She cleared her throat and moved her hand back into her lap. She broke his gaze and stood.

"I should get to dinner, now."

Four nodded but didn't really hear her. He hadn't taken his eyes off of Tris. He couldn't remember the last time he blinked. Tris kind of stood and waved a weird, awkward, salute-hand spasm before turning out the door. She could still feel the eyes of Four staring into her soul. She couldn't even start to think about what had just happened.


	16. Chapter 16: Overall

**Chapter 16:**

Overall, Four decided he had an okay birthday. He had made a (possible?) friend, gotten his head smashed into a wall, thus leading to a minor concussion, scared someone, laughed a lot more than usual, given someone cake, gotten a roommate, and gotten to spend the first night with new said roommate in a bed that was not in his own room and not with his roommate. Plus, he had met someone that actually showed an ounce of care, not like the nurses and Dr. Pedrad, but a friend who might actually care about him.

His brain was in overdrive, constantly thinking, his eyes darting around the room. He was so uncomfortable. So, so uncomfortable. He didn't really know why. Then, he realized it: he had to pee. The nurses had doped him up quite a bit, but he was pretty convinced he could make it to the bathroom on his own. He hoped that no one would see him and force him to go back in bed to pee in the weird contraption that the nurses had given him. He climbed out of bed slowly. The world was spinning, but he was able to steady it enough to grab onto the wall. He crept along the perimeter of the room. The room was huge. There was a direct path from the bed to the door. And from the bed to the floor.

There was a very dizzy boy trying to get from one side of the room to the other. And that boy had to pee. Badly. But, little did he know, there was someone who had come to say goodnight.

Tris had finished dinner. She hadn't wanted to sit with anyone. She didn't really want to socialize. Plus, it was only her first day. She had a lot more time here to make friends. But Tori and Christina came by, anyways. They talked to her about...comics. It was one of the best conversations that Tris could remember in a long time. Then, before she knew it, she was done with dinner and had to go visit Dr. Pedrad. They talked, but Tris wasn't really listening. She was told what medications she would be prescribed, but Tris didn't really care-or understand. Their long names just strung together. It was 8:15. She had 15 minutes before she had to be back in her room. She looked around half-heartedly for Christina and Tori, but found herself walking to the infirmary. Tris's eyes were still tinted red, but the swelling had gone down. She wasn't even sure why she had cried so much. She didn't even know Four. Or the other boys. She wondered if she was really crying for Four or for herself. She found that she was extremely emotional these days. Her mind, too, ran a mile a minute, but she wasn't sure why. She was nearing the door to the infirmary. She walked as quietly as possible, careful to make little sound, in case Four was asleep. She stepped softly to the door. She put her face up to the window to peer inside.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

Four's face was there. Again. But he wasn't looking satisfied, like before. He looked...frightened. Tris let out a nervous laugh. Then, she started a full out laugh attack. They had scared each other. Badly. They had successfully scared the living shit out of each other.


	17. Chapter 17: Come to Realize

**Chapter 17:**

"What are you doing out of bed?"

Four looked around and behind him.

"Yes, I'm talking to you, weirdo."

Every time Four had been called a weirdo, it had been meant as an insult. Even before he stopped speaking, he had been alone, a social outcast. But now, with this kid he barely even knew, he laughed at the title. It sounded pretty ridiculous coming from the teen in front of him who was, for the record, on the ground, still trying to get her heart rate back to normal. Not to mention they were in a mental institution.

Four looked around. _Shit,_ he thought. He had forgotten his notebook on his bed. But now, especially after that episode, he wasn't necessarily up for sneaking all the way back just to tell Tris he was going to piss. Which he needed to do very very badly by then. Very badly. And so, he got up and ran, leaving the girl stranded in the middle of the hall, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. But Tris was almost glad to be alone. Well, away from Four. She had taken a natural liking to the boy, but her mind was still disorganized from what she had heard earlier. She wasn't even sure _what_ she had heard. But it did make her wonder. And it also kind of worried her. She hadn't even been there more than a day, but she had already witnessed a ton of shit. She didn't know the whole story, but she was still undeniably worried.

Tris silently gasped. There had to be something Four had done to set off those guys' reactions like that. But...she didn't know anymore. Reading people had never been a strong point for Tris. She let out a small laugh and smiled to herself; Four had once again scared her half to death. Tris had been so lost in thought, she hadn't even heard the footsteps.

It was only then that Tris realized she was lying on the ground, face down. She was almost convinced she had freaked out Four, but he just smiled while prodding her shoulder with his toe. Tris smiled back, but the smile wasn't in her eyes. She thought of how much easier her time here would be if only she started out on the right foot (for once). And that right foot didn't seem to be Four's.

 **Happy holidays, guys! Sorry for the delay! Love you all, and please enjoy your precious time with others :)**


	18. Chapter 18: Another point of view

**Chapter 18:**

 **A/N Okay, so this is a really weird, short chapter from Caleb's POV. Don't judge me, he isn't supposed to be a real character in the story, but I wanted to write from his perspective. For fun. Yay?**

 **Okay, I'm an idiot. It's not in his point of view, it's 3rd person limited (to Caleb). At least for the first part. I don't know. By the end, it gets kind of Tris thought-y. Sorry guys. Forgive me, I'm tired.**

It had been a week since Caleb's birthday. But he didn't care. He was just happy to see his sister. Caleb almost never saw his sister, even though her college was only, like, a four hour drive away. Their schedules just never matched. But none of that mattered. He was going to see his sister! He had finally convinced his mom to let him drive to New York. It took a lot of time, and Caleb was pretty happy with the outcome. Tris had shared an apartment with his friend, but his friend left for "some shitty reasons." That was pretty worrisome to Caleb, but Tris dismissed it quickly, so Caleb followed in suit. He looked up to Tris a lot, almost idolizing her. Tris didn't understand that - as she had told Caleb many, many times - but Caleb continued to keep her as his role model.

Caleb had finally arrived in front of Tris's new address before hearing a high-pitched squealing sound. He exited the car to see a girl running toward him. She was going at full speed, and Caleb was scared to the pissing point, saved only by a realization that it was Tris. Just, you know, his best friend for his entire life, plus his lifelong companion, and his sister whom he hadn't seen it what felt like fourteen billion lifetimes. Caleb returned the action. They clashed in a bear hug, receiving some pretty weird looks from passerbyes. They just ignored them and continued their embrace. Caleb had really missed his sister. Tris had always been a good kid, she just did fine. Caleb, on the other hand, wasn't as interested in school. He spent way too much time ditching to see bands play in the big city. Caleb mostly looked up to Tris because everyone else liked her. Even their parents favored Tris. He was just, just a pretty great girl. Caleb was the real trouble of the family.

They finally broke the hug and went inside. They spent hours just talking. Caleb was initially distracted by Tris' clothing choice. She was wearing a long sleeve shirt. In the middle of the spring. It wasn't that cold out, and every time Caleb had seen Tris in previous years, she was wearing some kind of T-shirt with her favorite band on it. She rarely wore long-sleeves. So, Caleb asked pretty bluntly. But Tris didn't hear and just moved on, so Caleb dismissed it, too. As usual.

They had ordered pizza, ate like fiends, and hit the sack. Caleb was out in two seconds. Something about driving made him so so tired. Even though he wasn't even doing anything. And by not doing anything, that meant solely moshing to every song that came up on his playlist. It was probably a safety hazard to everyone. Literally, everyone.

He was woken in the night suddenly. He heard this...he didn't know how to describe it. It was just this awful sound coming from the room adjacent to his. He wasn't sure what was happening and moved to get out of bed. But he kind of stopped and sat on the edge of the bed. He had just had a pretty horrible nightmare, and he was too scared to leave the safety of his bed. But nonetheless, the sound didn't stop. So Caleb dragged slowly himself up, clutching a pillow to his chest. He had made it into the hallway by the time the sound had stopped. He knocked softly on the door, just to make sure. After peeking inside to see a Tris sleeping soundly, he shut the door and left to pee. He didn't want to have to go back into the hall completely unable to see, so he didn't turn on the light. He was kind of creeped out, plus, he was already blind enough, he didn't need to have to go through the process of readjusting his eyes. He made his way into the bathroom and discarded his pillow somewhere on the way. He only knew one, well, two, well, three things.

The sound had stopped.

He was still on edge from his nightmare.

He really, really had to pee.

He made his way to the toilet. He heard the light padding of footsteps. He tensed. The mirror was at just the angle so that when he looked in from where he was standing, he could see the doorway. He hadn't closed the door, not that anyone cared. He glanced cautiously. There wasn't anything there, so he relaxed. He closed his eyes briefly. He was pretty fucking tired. He reopened them slowly.

Caleb Prior had been scared before. Obviously. He had been scared after playing Guitar Hero and after watching Silence of the Lambs. But he had never been this scared. Ever.

In the doorway stood a figure. And it just so happened to look kind of like what he had seen in his dream. And Caleb screamed. And fell to the ground. And may or may not have cried. That wasn't "manly". Right. He just was...peeing out of his eyes. Yeah. That. Either way, he was almost positive that the Slender Man had come to visit him. And that he was dead. He saw a white face. And the faint outline of a suit. And he was so scared, he couldn't even speak. Then, he was blinded by light.

Caleb was prepared for the worst. He kind of always was. That was one of the joys of being naturally pessimistic. He didn't have to be disappointed. At least that way, he got the satisfaction of being right. But that flash of light wasn't his transition from the living to the dead, it was simply a flip of a switch. A _light_ switch, to be exact.

"Caleb, get up. The floor's dirty. Go to bed."

So, Caleb wasn't dead, he was just scared to death. Either way, his sister had just murdered him with fear. Still shaking, Caleb stood and let Tris lead him back to bed. He noticed in the light that Tris was back in a short-sleeve shirt. But he didn't really care about the sleeve length. And he also noticed that he was not being killed, just being lulled back into sleep.

The next morning, Caleb was up early. He had fallen asleep quickly after that incident. He hardly remembered any of it.

Thankfully, Caleb didn't notice the redness around her swollen eyes. Tris wasn't even sure how Caleb could be that oblivious. But she was thankful, nonetheless. Suddenly, the image from the previous night struck Caleb, and he shivered. He also noted that Tris was back in long sleeves. He shrugged. It seemed to be getting colder inside, even though he knew Tris hadn't changed the thermostat even a fraction of a degree.

 **Thank you guys so much! Happy new year to all!**


	19. Chapter 19: Symptomatic

**Chapter 19:**

 **A/N Alright guys, back to Four and Tris. Sorry for the short chapters and probable gap in updates, but it** **'s finals week so we are suuuuper stressed fun! Happy weekend and good luck to everyone!**

Tris was pretty happy. She had officially survived his first day at DMA- she couldn't really remember the acronym. Well, she actually wasn't quite sure why she was happy. Let's list some reasons, shall we? First of all, she had successfully survived his first day in a _mental institution._ Second of all, she hadn't gotten anything but a horrible, uncomfortable sleep that included a lot of crying, some vomiting, and a whole lot of tossing and turning. She gave an extra special shoutout to alcohol withdrawal. She had been considered being sent to a rehab center instead, but _they_ had decided that they would include methods from rehab while she received "assistance" for her other problems. So, real lucky for her, she didn't need to spend a year in a bunch of different places, and she could just cram everything into the few months she was expected to be here. Well, that's at least how long she hoped she would be here. She knew she wouldn't get better anytime sooner. Because she was suicidal, not an idiot with no sense of reality. Well...debatable. She almost had over her fair share of reality. But reality is just, well, reality. Right?

Her hands started to shake when she woke up. She couldn't stop the shaking. She looked at her hands. She just watched them. She did something she had discovered when she was a little girl Little Tris found that if she looked at her hands for long enough without moving, they would start to feel detached from her body. Like, she didn't even feel them anymore. They were just hands that happened to be resting on top of legs that happened to be hers. She kind of liked that feeling. She liked to know that she wasn't a part of her body anymore. She was slowly breaking into pieces. And that was okay. But a nurse came in and decided to move her gaze from her hands. She was kind of pissed, but was more focused on the spinning of the world. Oh, man. Vertigo. The nurse guided her out of bed, but not without many many many struggles and failed attempts. They hobbled down the hallway together, but she couldn't hold her weight any longer and sat her down in a wheelchair. The young girl would have enjoyed this more, but she was seeing someone in front of him. But that person wasn't wearing a nurse's uniform. He was wearing his very favorite nerdy T-Shirt, topped off with a goofy grin.

"Caleb!"

The image flickered. Tris lurched forward in her chair.

"Caleb! I'm here. I'm okay. I'm here."

But it was too late. Caleb was gone. Tris collapsed onto the floor.

She felt it coming. She could feel herself escape into the depths of nothingness. She couldn't hold it back any longer, throwing up all over herself and the floor. Before the darkness enclosed her, she heard voices speaking from above. She could barely make out a few of the words.

"...withdrawal…dangerous...bad"

And she saw a stretcher coming towards her.

She spoke with a voice barely higher than a whisper.

"No...n-no h-h-hospitals."

But Tris didn't hear anything more after that. She couldn't see or hear or breathe or think. She didn't even know his own name.


	20. Chapter 20: Lost

**Chapter 20:**

 **Trigger warning for anyone who may need to be warned. I don't really know what this is like, though, so it probably isn't accurate at all. Sorry! I tried my best. Thank you for all the feedback! Unfortunately, I write a fair amount of the chapters beforehand, so you may not see a change (specifically in length) for a while. Thanks!**

Tris's least favorite feeling was losing control. Unfortunately, that was her favorite feeling, too. She drank so she could stop thinking, so she could get rid of her troubles. And most of the time, she completely lost control. The bad thing was that she had an extremely high tolerance, especially after abusing the substance for years on end. She had wanted to stop in the beginning. But she just felt so _good_ after drinking. She enjoyed not caring. She enjoyed floating, escaping. It got to the point where she was drinking so much, she lost count. Of time, of beer cans, of bottles. Of the days, of the number of times she pushed her life to the limits, barely hanging on by her fingertips. Not that it was hard for Tris to lose count. She almost never knew where she was. Or who she was. She would wake up in the middle of the night, finish off one of the half-empty bottles from the previous night that were scattered around her room, pass out again, wake up, down another stale drink, pass out, get up, drink a few more times, stagger out to school, pass out somewhere on the way there, be woken up by one of his "friends" (who was probably videotaping her, as usual), and fail her classes. Next, she would drink into the night before waking up in a random person's yard. She barely ever remembered what she did when she was drunk.

She did, though, remember every time when she had taken the pills. That was the one thing she knew - even when her name was cloudy. She always knew her pills.

She had been arrested numerous times, but no one really cared. She wasn't even sure how she had enough money to pay for...well, everything. She had tried to stop. She tried. But she would just wake up and need the drink. She would need it. So she kept on doing it.

Most of the time, she would wake up on another person's property, but occasionally, she would find herself on her own bathroom floor, her blood smeared on the white tile and her shirt. She would see the fresh wounds, but she didn't really care. It's not like anyone really cared about her, anyways. Her friends were nowhere to be found when she really needed them. So, she learned to naturally not trust anyone. But she trusted her brother. And she wished she didn't. She hated that the only person she could really confide in was the person she hid the most from. She didn't like keeping secrets, but she couldn't bear the thought of letting Caleb down. Caleb had looked up to her, idolized her so much. But she knew that if Caleb was told the truth, she would only be a disappointment in yet another person's life.


	21. Chapter 21: Disgust

**Chapter 21:**

Almost immediately after being released from the infirmary, Tris was rushed to one of the rooms she had seen in movies - one with padding on the walls. It was more uncomfortable than Tris had imagined. But she wasn't really focused on that. She knew that she was experiencing withdrawal, but she also knew she was heavily drugged. Why didn't they just kill her? Oh yeah, Because they were in a fucking mental hospital. Tris almost forgot.

Tris had begun to get adjusted to the shockingly cold room. But her state didn't last for long. She was back. Caleb was back. Tris couldn't speak, but she didn't really want to, anyway. She was scared of what she would say, how she would say it, even how she would sound. She knew for sure that her breath was shaking even more than her hands. And her hands were shaking pretty violently.

She finally managed the make the words escape from her lips.

"Caleb."

It was a broken whisper. And it shattered something. It broke down the dam that was holding Tris's emotions back. She broke into sobs. She was collapsed on the floor. But Caleb did not move. His face didn't change. It only turned the room colder. Caleb slowly walked forward, his feet clicking loudly, despite the carpeted floor. Tris raised her head. Her sobs quieted down into inaudible sniffles. The silence was so loud, the tension palpable. The air was so thick, Tris could cut it with a knife.

Then, the unexpected happened. Caleb laughed. It was a horrid laugh, striking a match of fear in the bottom of Tris's stomach.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry," Tris stuttered. "I'm s-s-so s-sorry, C-Ca-Caleb."

"Oh, you're sorry?"

Tris nodded violently. She could no longer speak.

"If you're sorry, why didn't you do something?"

Tris took a deep breath.

"I tried so hard. I tr-," her voice broke, "I tried so so hard."

"You were my inspiration, my role model. And you didn't even have the decency to tell me? What happened to all that respect you had told me about? All those years of being best friends. Of being your brother. I was here for you. I was there. Next to you. And you never _once_ gave me a hint. You didn't even try."

Tris's head shaking instantly turned dark.

"I did. I warned you. I warned you, tried to get you away from me. Tried to save you before I exploded and killed you too. I wasn't going to let my own fucked up life hurt you."

Tris was yelling now, tears streaming down his face.

"I did tell you! I showed you! I cried. I cried so hard. You should have _noticed._ You say we were best friends, well, why didn't you _see_ that I was dead? Why couldn't you tell I was breaking down? You said you were there, well, it was quite obvious you weren't! You should have known. It wasn't my fault. You should have..."

Her voice slowly waned down to a whisper.

"You should have known. It wasn't my fault."

Tris curled her knees into her chest. She rocked herself back and forth, repeating the words over and over.

"It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault."

She heard Caleb approach him. A pain exploded in her side. Again and again, the pain continued. But she didn't feel it. She was already numb. Now, she was just a breathing corpse. She felt blood dripping down her back. She saw it on Caleb's shoes. And she knew that her only ally, her only hope that kept her floating, was gone. Three words rang out clearly.

"You disgust me."

And Caleb opened the door. And he was gone. Unfortunately, he had taken Tris' last scraps of hope with him.

Tris didn't flinch as she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders. She didn't feel when she felt a comforting hand rub circles on her back. She didn't cry when he felt the tears of a helpless, voiceless boy on her wrists. She didn't. She just didn't. She no longer was, and that was enough for now.


	22. Chapter 22: The First Attempt

Four got less sleep every day. The worst of Tris's withdrawal stages were over, but Tris wasn't the same. Four knew that once one stage of withdrawal was over, another one just took it's place. He knew what Tris was going through. He had dealt with this before. Four had been new to this, too. But he could remember how he had sat on his bed for days at a time, refusing to eat, move, or talk. He couldn't speak when he had first woken up. But that was, of course, because he had a tube shoved down his throat. They had to pump his stomach, but he was still connected to a thousand machines. He had been dead, he had been told. His heart had stopped beating, he had been told. And he had finally gotten what he deserved. But he woke up in the wrong place. He wasn't supposed to be breathing. He wasn't supposed to be connected to machines that were making his heart pump, making his body move. He wasn't supposed to be _alive_.

But no one understood him. Mainly because he didn't speak. He couldn't speak, even when his throat was clear and his lungs were sucking in healthy amounts of air. He couldn't speak, even when the cuts on his arm were closed and healed and his eyes were shining with life. They weren't happy, but they were alive. And all that Four could think was, why me?

But Four wasn't an idiot. He wasn't a helpless, stupid boy that thought about how he was drowning in his sorrows, how he was the only one who was facing the world. He wasn't one to think about how things could have been. The only time he had thought about the past was before he had swallowed the pills from his shaking hands. And before he made that last, final cut. And before he left the hospital before coming to Divergent. He only thought, why didn't I take more? Why didn't I cut deeper? Why didn't I wait longer before passing out? What will it take for me to finally die?

Four didn't think _why me?_ because he was sorry for himself. No, he thought, _why would they save me? Why would those doctors waste the money that went into saving me, the blood that was pumped into me? How many other people died while I was being treated? How many people needed those things? And how many of those people wanted to live?_ Four knew he wasn't one of them. He had thought it through. He had known the consequences for others. But for him, it didn't matter. No one knew him, no one cared about him. His parents weren't there to love him, his dogs weren't there to stop him, his friends weren't there to care. No one. He had no one. And he was only wasting space, wasting air.

There were no reasons to stay behind. And when he woke up, he had thought about pulling everything that was keeping him alive out of his body. He was actually tempted to. But he passed out again. And the nurse was there when he woke up. But she had taped everything down. He was too tired to undo everything. He was too tired to forgive himself. But he blamed himself for not trying hard enough that first time. For not doing enough to push him over the edge for the last time.

 **Omg you guys, we're almost at 10,000! Thank you so much to everyone here and reading and commenting and favoriting and following I cannot thank you enough you're amazing!**


	23. Chapter 23: Waiting

**Happy Weekend!**

 **Chapter 23:**

Four watched Tris. Both sat on their respective beds. Tris was facing the wall, her back to Four.

Four waited. He knew pretty well how to break people. Tris was next on his list.

Four waited. And waited. And waited. He knew Tris was thinking. And he knew _what_ Tris was thinking. He eventually couldn't hold it in any longer. He started to laugh. Tris spun around and glared harshly, but Four only took a pencil and a piece of paper and scribbled something down. He scrunched it up and threw it at Tris.

Tris lunged forward to catch it, but ended up shrieking and cowering backwards after tripping on her own ankle.

She wasn't used to catching things that were flying towards him. She was used to getting hit by things thrown at her, though.

A smile graced Four's lips, but his face remained buried in his notebook.

She unfolded the small, crumpled ball.

 _Just so you know, it's practically impossible to die here. Trust me. I've seen people locked in a room for weeks. Just trust me, it's literally worse than jail._

Tris wondered how Four knew what she was thinking. She hoped he wasn't as messed up as she was. She really hoped. She didn't like to think about Four experiencing anything nearly as fucked up as she had. She figured the boy had done something more than just stopped speaking to end up here. Tris had done a lot more than drinking, that's for sure.

Addiction wasn't particularly nice to Tris. Or Four. It just didn't seem to like them. So it decided to give them an extra share.

Blades weren't very nice, either. They always seemed to find a way to wedge themselves into the their young hands.

Blood was nicer. It came out of hiding when they wanted it to. That was nice.

But Divergent was a fucking hellhole. As Four had said, there was nothing to give Tris the satisfaction of meeting her old friend, Blood, again. Tris was practically dead. She had thought her alcohol withdrawal had been worse than hell. But this was even worse. She had endured so much over the years that not feeling anything was more painful than actually feeling.

Unfortunately, neither one of the teens knew they shared the mutual friend.

The staff member came, and went. They were checked up on in 30 minute intervals. Not that they could do anything. Tris turned around fourteen times over the course of 2 hours. Four wasn't necessarily lonely, but he was bored as fuck. Usually, he didn't spend this much time in his room, but he was determined to show Tris that she wasn't alone. So, she stayed.

And Four waited. And waited. And waited.


	24. Chapter 24: We Meet Again

**VJJ- hope this makes any kind of sense? Thank you all!**

Caleb came. He came and visited Tris. And he apologized. He _apologized_. He apologized for not being there for her. He apologized for not noticing, for not seeing the signs. For not seeing Tris more often. But Tris wasn't looking at her brother. No, she was looking at the dark soul that had abandoned her. That had yelled at her. That had left her, taken her heart and smashed it to pieces. She was looking at the one that had kicked her until her clothes were stained a deep shade of red.

She was looking at the one who had walked away.

And she didn't apologize anymore. She was done crying. She was done wishing that Caleb would forgive _her_.

And she knew, in the back of her mind, yes, she knew that Caleb wasn't the one who was against her. But she also knew the truth. She knew Caleb better than the he knew himself. He knew Caleb better than she knew herself.

That wasn't saying much, though. She didn't know herself at all.

Caleb came. And Caleb left. Tris didn't change. She hadn't spoken much to Caleb. She hadn't hugged back when her brother embraced her. She hadn't slipped a single tear as her brother soaked her shirt, hadn't made a single effort to understand Caleb's words. She was done listening. She was done feeling. And all she wanted, all that she had ever really wanted, was a blade.

Tris used to be best friends with her brother. She still considered himself to be, mostly because her best friend was her only friend. Everywhere she went, she was somehow able to lose friends. That is, until she ran out of friends to lose. It's not that she wasn't popular - which, she wasn't, but she was just accepted into a group of douche bags that said she was cool because she drank and smoked and did drugs and jumped off of roofs. Of course, none of them could even remember what the other had done during the night, but they woke up and clapped one another on the back for smashing a window or some other shit. Tris didn't mind, really. She would have done everything without them, anyway, so she may as well have been appreciated for wasting her life away. She was already seen as a failure to his parents, so it didn't really matter to them what she did. She could have run away, after all, and no one would have noticed. Really, she didn't matter to anyone, other than Caleb. Caleb was the star kid. He wasn't necessarily perfect, but anything was better than Tris. She was just a kid who had fucked up her life, just a smudge in the background of the family portrait.

It hadn't always been like that. She used to be a good kid, get good grades, be good at art, talk to her family. Back when she was actually acknowledged by her family. But soon, the depression came and found her. And she was fucked over.


	25. Chapter 25: Swallowed

**Chapter 25:**

When Tris first planned it out, she had no idea if it was going to work. She had simply realized that she didn't want it, so she didn't take it. She had a plan, and she thought, _hoped_ , that it would work. Yeah, she was wrong.

Tris had tried resisting. There was only so much they could do, right? Yeah, wrong again.

Tris had woken up, ready to face the day. Not. She hadn't woken up because she hadn't slept. She hadn't been ready to face the day because she never was. And never would be in the future.

But she tried.

No, she didn't. Either way, Tris was having a major internal conflict: actually try to do something with himself so she could get out of there, or mope around and feel sorry for herself. The latter was easier. She didn't have the energy for anything. And that was true.

But she did try to resist again when the tiny paper cup of pills was handed to her. The nurse expected her to just take it. She didn't. Well, at first. She refused over and over again. They stayed calm, which, evidently, was a bad idea. She only grew pissed at herself and the situation. More at herself. More at the world. She couldn't decide. And the more they monotonously told her to take her pills, the more pissed she became, the more she resisted, the more she yelled and caused a scene. The guards came, Dr. Stump came, the nurses and the patients came. Four came. And every one of the adults tried to get Tris to take her _little white capsules of infinite doom_. But she refused. And fought back, never listening to anyone. And then, everyone was mad or pissed off or disappointed or annoyed. And Tris still refused to take her pills. The scene grew and the tension thickened. It was a dangerous game to play, but Tris refused to lose and back down. To succumb to the treatment when there was no antidote, and she knew that. Even though her fate was inevitable, she refused to accept. The tension continued to grow, everyone yelling at Tris to take her fucking pills. And she didn't listen. And they yelled. And she didn't listen. She didn't listen until a firm hand reached from the middle of nowhere, turning Tris around faster than a tornado.

Tris wasn't met with another open mouth repeatedly yelling at her. She was met with eyes. _Hazel_ eyes. Piercing, unforgiving eyes. She hadn't expected her own shame to crash into her as if the ceiling had caved in. The world stopped. All that existed was Tris' jagged breaths and the flaming eyes in front of her. The eyes did not flicker away shyly, but forced themselves into her soul. They opened her mind and spoke to her. And she brought her hand up to her mouth. And swallowed.

The hazel orbs that had been tinted with a deep red softened and left Tris' face. They turned away and vanished into the crowd that was already retreating. Four turned one last time and met eyes with Tris. _Something_ was in his expression, but Tris couldn't decipher the glint. It was a cross between disappointment and understanding. Understanding wasn't something that Tris had encountered often throughout her life.


	26. Chapter 26: And it was

**Oh shoot! Oopsie poopsie! Dangnabbit! Blue-gray, _not_ hazel eyes! Thanks guys :)**

 **Chapter 26:**

It was halfway through November. Four was fucking cold. Tris was still hot, but not temperature wise, of course. Tris was cold, and Four was mad. And Tris was mad. And Dr. Stump was warm. And Four was silent. And Tris was tired. And Dr. Stump was still warm. And fucking Divergent was fucking cold in fucking November. Oh yeah, and Four and Tris were mad.


	27. Chapter 27: Anger

**Chapter 27:**

Tris wasn't sure what to say. She just knew that even though what she did wasn't cool, what Four did was even worse. She marched into the dorm, ready for action. But she didn't know what to do.

Four was writing new lyrics in cool fonts, creating a collage of various lines that evoked a painful emotion or memory. He had looked so peaceful, Tris wasn't even sure what to do. So she sat on her bed and stared at the wall. She finally spoke. They were stupid words.

"Why'd you do that?"

No answer.

"Why'd you do that, huh? Why didn't you just let me do something on my own? Why did you have to interfere? I was doing _fine._ I've always been _fine._ I don't need you to come and change that. I'll be fine, I'm fine, everyone's fine. Everything is fucking fine. Just-just why were you even there? Why can't you let me screw myself up, why do you have to come and make me do the "right" thing? I really don't-"

She stopped talking suddenly. She watched as Four continued to stare down at his notebook, never breaking his harsh gaze that should have been directed at her, but wasn't. She didn't miss the slight tightening of his pencil grip, the slight darkening of the lines, the ever-so faint glisten in his eye. Tris didn't miss any of it.

She spoke again in a low, menacing voice.

"Why did you do have to do that, butt into my own fucked up mess. I didn't need that, and you certainly didn't, either. I'm _fine_."

She wasn't even sure what he was talking about anymore - it was only a few pills, but her anger was getting fueled with every second, every breath. Life was only a reminded of her failure and issues. She didn't let that failure bullshit that her "friends" and "family" had said get to her, but she wasn't unfazed by it, either. She wasn't a wall, she was just a mass of putty that people could throw things into, thinking that they've disappeared, when really, it's all just lodged deep down. Forever.

But she was still angry. And she didn't have anything to do but let it out. Onto Four.

"I was doing fine before that, I was _fine._ Sure, I didn't want to live, and sure, I still don't, but that doesn't mean that I ever will. I'm okay, you didn't need to be there, you didn't have to be there. I wasn't going to take the meds, I wasn't going to drown my sorrows in drugs. I know better than _anyone_ that that _doesn't work._ And then you come along, piercing me with those fucking beautiful eyes of yours, making me _think_ , making me-"

She was cut off by a piece of balled up paper hitting her in the arm. She slowly unfolded it, keeping her eyes on Four. In her ranting, she hadn't noticed that Four had stopped drawing and was writing. She let her eyes drift down to the message.

 _I was helping you._

She didn't read farther before letting his anger out.

"Helping me? Helping doesn't _work_. It doesn't mean anything, it doesn't work. I don't know if it works on other people, but it doesn't work on me. But I refuse your help, thank you very much. Isn't this whole fucking place supposed to help me? Don't see anything getting better, huh? I refuse."

She turned her attention back to the paper. Four knew her better than she had anticipated.

 _Resisting doesn't work. And_ I _know that better than anyone. Giving in is easier, we both know that. But you gave into the wrong side. No one is here to hurt you, everyone is-_

Tris couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't hold anything in. But she would not cry. She would not give in to anyone or anything. She was done. She was stronger now than before, hardened. Her shell would not be cracked this easily. And so, she didn't cry.

Another paper landed beside her.

She unfolded it.

 _It's okay._

That was it. Tris got up and walked straight to the door. She was done. She had heard too much of that in her lifetime.

"Are you okay?" "Oh, it's okay." "Suck it up, you'll be okay."

She was done. She wasn't okay. How blind was the world to not see how not-okay she was?

Four's eyes followed her to the door, never flickering away. He knew that Tris wasn't mad at him, but he also knew that she was. He was the little mistake that flipped Tris's switch from blind to seeing too much. Everyone has that switch, just most people haven't been triggered by it yet.

Tris got out of the room, attempting to slam the soft-shut door. Another thing added to her list of Things That Tris Prior Sucks At. That list included making friends, having common sense, and quitting drinking. And now, slamming doors specifically made to not slam. She thought she was special. Apparently she needed a stronger will to accomplish those things. She didn't have a strong anything, really.

By the time she had reviewed everything else on her sucky list, she was at the lobby by the entrance. She sat down on one of the luxuriously comfortable plastic chairs. She buried her head in her hands, closing her eyes and drowning out the voices until they were a quiet hum in the distance.

She didn't move until someone placed a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, but unplugged her ears. She pried her eyes open, wincing at the bright lighting but blinking and adjusted quickly.

She listened to what the woman, a nurse, was saying.

"Ms. Prior? Oh good, you've come to! I've been calling you for quite a while!"

She made a small hmph sound before getting on with her message.

"Alright, Ms. Prior, I have some very exciting news! You have a visitor, well two!"

Two? Tris knew it couldn't be Caleb and someone else. Caleb didn't know that many people. She laughed to herself at that thought. But the nurse would have said it was Caleb. She was there before when he visited, and she seemed to remember everyone. Seriously, _**everyone**_. Honestly, Tris wasn't sure if she should be interested, or creeped out. The nurse was an interesting person, though. So she went for interested.

She nodded and pushed her scattered thoughts aside. All of the drama from the morning had cleared, leaving her mind temporarily, giving it room to breathe and space to take in new information. She stood and walked stiffly towards the door that led her to the visiting room. The room was deserted with the exception of two nurses. Her body was immediately pulsing with white hot anger. She turned around before _they_ had noticed her, trying to walk away unseen.

But no, the nurses couldn't have that.

"Oh, Ms. Prior, so glad you're here!"

Tris groaned and internally cursed her. She plastered the fake smile that she had become well acquainted with over the years on her face. She was sure he looked worse than shit, but at this point, she honestly didn't care.

They stood and watched her shuffle over to them. She really wasn't in the mood for visitors.

Her anger had come crashing down on her all at once. Spontaneous acts of evil were not greatly appreciated in the real world, apparently. She plopped down in the seat across from them, sinking as far into the cushion as possible. It didn't help, considering she was trying to disappear into a two inch layer of foam. Great results were achieved. She successfully fell out of the chair, misjudging the texture of the seat cover and the width of the arms. And she hit his funny bone on the way down. The day couldn't have gotten any worse. But then, it did. It got a lot worse. And Tris was confused as to why the place she had fallen into from her nice, slightly crushed cushion wasn't Hell.


	28. Chapter 28: Too tired

Chapter 28:

Four didn't like taking pills more than anyone else. In fact, he probably hated it more than anyone in the world. But it was hard to resist. He was too tired to resist. He had exhausted his attempts at the beginning. He felt like a dog who had been bursting with energy when he was a young pup, but he had now grown into an old, lazy adult. He was too tired to fight. He might be strong enough to resist again, but he didn't see that at all in the remote future. He seemed happy, he even felt happy sometimes, but he knew it was the medication.

Four didn't like being drugged more than anyone else. In fact, he probably hated it more than anyone in the world. But it was hard to resist. He was too tired to resist. He was too tired to fight. He seemed happy, he even felt happy sometimes, but he knew it was the medication.

Four didn't like being a zombie without any independent thoughts, without a personality, without an identity more than anyone else. But he was too tired to resist. Too fucking tired.


	29. Chapter 29: Enigma

**I'm so lame. And not in a cool way. Like, a lame way.**

Chapter 29:

"It's not okay. Nope, it's not okay. I'm not okay. You're not okay. No one in this whole fucking institution is okay, Four. Okay?"

She slammed, or tried to slam, the door on the way in. She had been a coward, leaving without confronting them, but she thought of it more as self defense. She had left before shit hit the fan. So, before talking to them. She didn't want to speak to them, she didn't want to see them, she didn't want to breathe the same air as them.

"And no, I'm not okay. But I don't need a fucking lawyer, I don't need a decent set of parents, and I don't need a fucking pill. I don't need anything."

She buried her face in her arms, dragging her knees up to her chest. Her conflicting emotions were obvious in her words. She was fine. But she so obviously wasn't. But she was. But she really, really wasn't. She curled into a tight ball, not budging as she felt Four sit down next to her. Four tried to comfort Tris by putting an arm across her shoulders, but Tris wouldn't, couldn't, let herself be weaker than she already was.

"Don't touch me. I-I just want to be alone right now."

Four understood. Without understanding. He knew that everyone had layers, some thick and some small. And he knew that Tris was just a walking onion. An enigma with a thousand layers. And Four was ready to get to the center.


	30. Chapter 30: Guests

**A/N Hopefully this is enough for the next like 3 weeks! haha long chapter today :)**

 **Chapter 30:**

"Ms. Prior?"

Someone was knocking on the door softly.

Four tried to get up to see who it was but failed utterly. He needed to go to music therapy. Music was really the only thing he was connected to from the outside world. At least when he got out, he would be able to carry on a conversation with another music junkie. That is, if he ever had a conversation again. Or got out. He couldn't be too sure. He didn't like to get his hopes up. Yup, so very optimistic.

He had come back to the room after a while, finding Tris in the same position on the floor. He decided it was safe to approach. He lowered himself quietly and settled himself next to the collapsed figure with her head buried in her arms. He knew this phase. He had gone through it, as had almost everyone else at Divergent. Of course, it varied for each individual: the length, the feelings evoked, the intensity. Every stage was like Hell for Four, and he didn't suspect anything different from Tris. He knew something was different about Tris. There were secrets. Someone isn't just sent to a _mental institution_ for alcoholism. They'd be sent to rehab, no doubt. Something wasn't being said, but then again, there was a lot that Four wasn't saying, too. Figuratively, of course.

At least Tris was almost done with the worst of it. All she could do was wait. The withdrawal from alcohol, plus the withdrawal from the outer world stages, were pretty much over. She had finished the revelation phase and was nearing the end of the resisting phasing. She still had to get through the acceptance phase, but that came in unpredictable periods. It's impossible to gauge how long it will take someone to accept that there are two ways to get out of the hospital: you listen and do what they say, or you die. Many people want the second option, but it's less of an option and more of a restricted "prize". Pretty much, they dangle it in front of you, leading into the determined phase. But people are idiots, not stupid. These doctors know you better than you know yourself. They knew Four. And Four was a force to be reckoned with.

The next phase for Tris was the determined phase. Once someone understands that the only way to get out is to show improvement, they start to think that they can go back to drinking, or drugs, or self harm once they get better and get out. But, as said before, the doctors weren't idiots. They would drug sense into you, if they had to.

Four had been settled next to Tris, thinking, until he was startled by movement. Tris's head was resting on Four's shoulder. She had exhausted herself, Four could tell, by crying. Her eyes were red at the rims and swollen, but she looked like a peaceful child, sleeping after throwing a tantrum. But this was good for Tris. The sooner she could accept the situation, the more stable she was. And when she was stable, everyone, especially Four, was a little better off.

He eventually was able to lean Tris's head against the wall, standing up stiffly from being on the ground for at least an hour. He stretched his muscles briefly before getting the door. A nurse was standing outside, looking slightly impatient. Four gasped in shock. There were _people_ here. Not just patients or nurses or guards, real people from the outside. There was a man and a woman standing a little distance from the nurse.

"Hello, Four."

Four nodded in greeting.

"Is Tris here?"

Four blinked. He wasn't sure what had happened, but he assumed these were the people that Tris ran from. Four stood there, having a mental debate whether or not to nod or just continue to be a weirdo. She was probably going to come in anyway, so he hit the wall with the back of his foot while 'clearing his throat'. The shoe's contact set off a series of stirring motions inside the room before he heard a small grunt. He had successfully woken Tris up. Achievement unlocked.

The woman from the outside rolled her eyes.

"A simple yes or no would work fine, son. We just need to know if she's in there."

Great, Four thought, they're mad at me. Four made a little show of panicking, hoping he was giving Tris some time to either come to the door or hide somewhere effectively.

The man stepped forward from his place beside the woman. He asked the nurse a question in a low voice, probably thinking that Four couldn't hear. Fortunately, Four had an above average sense of hearing. And the guy wasn't being all that discreet. He knew that people without certain senses have other heightened senses, and Four found that not speaking meant lots of listening. And thankfully, he was a good listener. And he listened to what this new guy was saying.

"Excuse me, but if you don't mind, may I?" He made a gesture towards Four. The nurse looked a little uncomfortable.

"Um, sure, but you should know that he-"

"Whatever it is, ma'am, I'm sure it'll be fine."

He refused to let her speak again, roughly grabbing Four by the arm and bringing him around the corner and into a vacant hallway. He didn't hurt Four, just really annoyed him.

"You know," the man spoke, "it is very disrespectful to not speak when an elder is asking you a question."

Four almost laughed. What did this guy think he knew? He didn't know shit about Four. But it was almost humorous, so he let the conversation continue.

He nodded.

"Did you hear what I just said? I think a 'yes, sir' would suffice."

Four couldn't help it. A smile crept onto his face.

"Oh, you think this is funny? You know what I think is funny? That you're in a mental hospital and I'm a perfectly sane elder, but you're still treating me like I'm trash."

The smile disappeared from Four's face. His mouth was dry. He wanted to shut this guy up. Badly.

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Four = mental hospital.

The whole world knew that by now.

He did the only thing he really knew how to do. He waited. The man was still half-yelling at him, but he didn't give a fuck, so he didn't listen.

He watched as three people turned into the hallway. One of which being the nurse, the other two being the woman and...Tris. Tris!

The guy didn't see them. But apparently, he had asked Four a question. Four only knew this because he felt his wrist pulled sharply. The man had a vice grip on the pale boy's forearm. Just because the scars are healed doesn't mean he doesn't have any feeling in his skin! He grimaced.

Tris saw the man. But Tris also saw Four. And Tris freaked out.

"Answer me! I told you how disrespec- oh...hello, Tris. It's been a while."

"Let go of Four."

The fist that was painfully enclosing Four's arm obliged and returned to its owner.

Tris turned to Four.

"Hey." Four blinked in return. Tris handed him his notebook and a pencil, smiling ever so slightly. Four knew that Tris wasn't at ease, but decided to not butt into her personal affairs with others. He wasn't sure who these people were, but he was almost positive that Tris had a strong distaste for them. He wondered if she had seen her parents yet. Most times, the parents come within the first week. Except for Four, of course.

Based on the woman's proximity to Tris, he assumed that they knew how pissed she was and half respected that. Probably her parents. But he wouldn't assume easily. Someone had told him when he was younger to never assume, because it makes an Ass out of U and Me. Haha. Not very funny.

"You okay?" Tris's voice cut into his thoughts. Four just nodded. The clump of people started walking, and Four was pushed forward. He tried to get out of the way and let them pass, but Tris gave him a look that told him to stay. Peer support. Four missed having peers. There were a handful of teens at Divergent, but not enough for anyone to like Four. The odds of that were about 1/5,000, so there had to be 5,000 teens at the hospital for one person to even remotely acknowledge Four. But Tris was a teen, right? So he had a peer. That was nice for him.

Tris was forcibly dragged away by her "father" (Four assumed anyway; rules were for people that weren't in mental institutions). Tris caught Four's eye, a panicked look crossing her face.

And Four wanted to follow, but Dr. Pedrad decided to butt in and talk to him.

"Want to chat? It's about time for the monthly status update, so you wanna get it over with?"

Four shook his head.

"Alright, well, you don't really have a choice, so...let's go!"

How could Dr. Pedrad be so happy about filling out a bunch of papers and forms?

They made it to his office within a few minutes of silence.

He beckoned for Four to close the door and sit down. Four did as he was asked and tried to make himself comfortable, but his mind wouldn't get off of Tris. He didn't like it when someone was panicking in a place specifically designed to reduce panic. But then again, who doesn't panic when they're imprisoned in a freaking mental institution...


	31. Chapter 31: Talks

**Chapter 31:**

Tris's parents cut straight to the chase. Didn't even bother to say a nice "Hello, our dear daughter! Sorry we've dropped you off in a mental institution without warning and haven't said a word to you since!".

She would have appreciated that...

But they did say something.

"We have some news."

"Oh my gosh," Tris said, gasping. "Caleb's pregnant?"

Her parents rolled their eyes as they had done too often in the past. She was the same old pain in the ass she had always been. But Tris just smiled innocently, spite shining in her eyes.

"You're getting charged. More, _we're_ getting charged."

Her grin disappeared.

"What?"

"You. When you were off getting high or drunk or whatever you do, you apparently decided to break into a house and climb onto the roof. Then, you proceeded to jump off the roof and smash a car hood. Congratulations, you've accomplished your goal, right?"

Tris was confused, but her eyes had seas of anger behind them. Her eyes burned, but she didn't know why. She wasn't going to cry, but she wasn't necessarily feeling like a child on Christmas morning, either. She was tired, confused, angry, and fed up with this whole thing. First, her parents come, then she's told that the house owners are pressing charges, then she finds out that she has to meet with a lawyer and go to court. Her day just keeps getting better.

She sat silently until her parents decided that they had burned her ears off enough for the day. They said they would be back. With a lawyer. Great.

Tris couldn't even recall what had happened. That night was probably after a bad day. She tended to be a little more… dangerous when she was upset. She probably took the pills. No, she definitely took the pills. Sometimes she missed them.


	32. Chapter 32: Interactions

**Chapter 32:**

"Hey, Four." Tris plopped into her empty seat at the lunch table.

"Hey, Tris. Listen, I just want to confess my undying love for you. Will you be my lover for ever and ever until we both die in each other's arms?"

"Shut the fuck up, Eric. And you know what? You and your little flat ass can go rot in Hell."

"Excuse me, Ms. Prior. We must direct you to see Dr. Pedrad. Also, such language is not accepted in this facility."

"Fucking shit. It's not my fault! He started it, it's not my fau-"

"Ms. Prior. Please follow me."

"Bye, Tris."

Tris just flipped Eric off and walked behind the nurse.

She heard a sigh from behind her.

Tris turned around and made eye contact with Four, who was chuckling and shaking his head, a smile playing at the end of his mouth. Tris let her mouth form into a smile, and the anger dissipated immediately.

Four really was a drug. A miracle drug. And for once, the word didn't have a negative connotation.


	33. Chapter 33: Tomatoes

Kinda stupid chapter but oh well! Really just for fluff don't expect anything :)

 **Chapter 33:**

Tris hated Eric. Strong words, but fitting. She hated him. She hated how confident and macho he acted, despite the fact that he was a tiny, insecure jerk. He wasn't really tiny, he was maybe around Tris' height, but he was a scrawny little d-bag. Tris especially hated the fact that Eric was picking on Four. Especially how many references to Tris were thrown in. She was almost positive that Four wasn't into her, but he sure was picked on a lot. Tris felt bad. Either way, Four was suffering, Tris put herself at fault, and it was hell.

All over again.

People would bully Tris wherever she was. Even if she was alone and in complete isolation, she would probably still bully herself.

Her mind drifted back to the real world when Four shoved her gently with his shoulder.

 _You okay?_ He mouthed.

"Yeah. Whatever, just pissed at Eric. And everyone, really. Well, everyone but you."

Four smiled and blushed slightly. Then, he blushed more from realizing he had blushed. He was just a blushing mess. Tomatoes.

 _Do you like tomatoes?_

"What?"

Four let out a small chuckle. Tris just leaned back in her chair and studied his face. She let her eyes drift over every feature, memorizing the layout. She reminded himself to draw him later.

Four's eyes glazed over as they stared out the window, a position he often found himself in. He was always caught daydreaming and zoning out. That was rarely ever a good thing. He jumped when a voice sounded out next to him.

"Excuse me, ladies, but I need to interrupt your make out session with a message. It's time for group therapy, so let's get going!"

Four rolled his eyes and threw a piece of crumpled paper at the target. He hit it on the bullseye. Tris laughed as Eric turned beet red from anger. Or embarrassment. Four mentally considered why it probably wasn't a good idea to throw a piece of paper at someone's head, but ended up laughing. He was always laughing around Tris. It was good. He got a pretty nerdy vibe from her, but Four wasn't sure if Tris was quite yet ready to handle a Jar Jar Binks rant...

Plus, he wouldn't kill Tris with the worst character of all time just yet. She didn't seem to be having the best day, anyway.

The day passed by, consisting mainly of Four and/or Tris flipping people off when people weren't watching. It was fun.

He fell asleep quickly, facing Tris. He felt a strong sense of security, even though Tris's back was to Four, signaling that she didn't want to be bothered. Four had a good rest.


	34. Chapter 34: Lights

**Okay I got a little confused about the pronouns because originally the genders were different and then it became a mess so sorry! But if you can't understand just say so I'll try to change things yes. Okay. Thanks guys so much! This story has broken 15,000 views and that's amazing! I can't believe it so I'm just kinda not coming to terms with it but thank you guys you're all amazing!**

There had been a lot of lights. And yelling. And confusion. And running. And crying and tackling and shouting and puking and calling. Four didn't know what was happening, nor did any of the patie- _residents_. Then, they caught them - _it_. But not before they had silently knocked multiple security guard unconscious and broken into the medication room. The room had been lined with racks upon racks of orange, translucent prescription bottles, all carefully labeled and placed by a meticulous pair of tired hands. They had to work quickly. The footsteps were coming. They couldn't hear them yet, but they knew they were coming. Well, they didn't know, the voices knew. Their friends. They told them to keep going, to keep running. They told them to go on and break the locks, to knock out the guards, to steal the dangerous medications. They were the same friends that had told him to drag a cool knife across skin. The same friends that had told them to pop the pills. Those beautiful, white pills. But they had a mission. The voices had given them a mission. They had opened their eyes. And they weren't happy. So, it wasn't happy. And if it wasn't happy, no one deserved to be happy.

The original plan was just to kill everyone. But the footsteps came too fast. It was too late. The footsteps were closer, gaining in quickly. It was in the kitchen already (the friends were particularly good at picking locks) and managed only to shake the dangerous powder onto one tray. It wasn't even sure what the pills would do, but they didn't have time to think before wiping the evidence away. They had to get back to the room before someone found them. But it had accomplished part of their goal. It would be back again for more.

The footsteps were here. They were too close. There were too many people. They knew who it was. But they didn't know what it had done. And it smiled before the security guard tackled it. A wicked, nasty grin crawled onto its face as they blacked out.


	35. Chapter 35: Same thing

**Slight trigger warning pls be careful stay safe guys 3 thank you so much**

 **Chapter 35:**

No one knew. But by morning, all missing security guards had been replaced, and all locks had been fixed. Four hadn't slept well after, but no one really had. He knew for sure that Tris didn't sleep. Tris hadn't even tried. And when Four had finally drifted off, he was in a strange, put off state, aware of the roommate that was sitting on her bed across the room, not even bothering to lie down. And he was aware that said roommate wasn't thinking. And he was aware of his own scared breaths. And then he was aware of the noise. Then the light. And he watched his roommate carefully. And his roommate turned around. And they just sat, one lying, one sitting, on their separate beds, looking at each other. And neither of them smiled. Or looked away shyly, or moved. They were just looking. And Four felt the cold. From across the room, he felt the cold. He could see the icy chill emanating from her. He felt the hatred. He felt the loss. He felt the broken. He felt the darkness. He felt the not feeling at all.

And then Tris looked away. She stood and opened the door, not even bracing her eyes against the light. Then, she closed the door and escaped into the bathroom. Four puffed out a breath of air and collapsed back onto his bed. He needed sleep. He really needed sleep.

He was awoken again by the sound of voices. The nurses were doing their wake up rounds. Four woke with a start, but he lay back down quickly. Headrush. He glanced across the room. Tris was in bed. But she wasn't even in the form of Tris, she was just a big pile of sheets, pillows, hair, and some kind of body. He slowly slipped out of bed and began to scribble a message.

He placed it on Tris's pillow, but he found it hard to find the girl's face. He knew what Tris was going through. His first days had been torture, too. Then, it seemed to get better after the first week. But it all fell back down. His first week had been a mess of resistance and anger and turmoil, but he learned that he wasn't helping anyone, and the sooner he showed improvement, the sooner he could get out. Because after all, that was everything he had wanted. He didn't have his parents waiting outside the doors with open arms, but he did have a world without the nurses, the bullies, the medications that stripped him of his identity. He would be free. But he would never be free at this rate. He would be stuck there forever. He couldn't speak, even if he wanted to; his body just shut down, an invisible hand clamping down on his throat, making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. But he stopped trying a while ago. He could get a few words out, here and there, but he was too mentally exhausted most of the time. He was just...tired. Sick and tired. He was sick and tired of the world, too. Of being mistreated, misunderstood. He had had a rough childhood, but hey, he was still alive. Barely breathing, but alive, nonetheless. He didn't want to repeat history; he certainly wasn't up for waking up in another hospital bed, but who was? The idiot attention cravers, the ones that mislead society into thinking that everyone cuts for attention, loses hope for attention, commits suicide for attention. And they are the ones that pollute the minds of the children, of the young babies, and worst, the minds of those who are true. He could relate to every one of the true population, the people that bleed to feel, that swallow pills to take a break - to take a breath, that slip that noose around their necks to end the endless life of misery. He had been ready to do that. But the doctors had saved him. He had actually _died_. But here he was, still alive, just stuck in a fucking mental institution. And he knew that he wasn't crazy, or harmful, or violent. He was just waiting to get out. Because that's all he really wanted. But they wouldn't let him go until he spoke. Like, actually spoke, like a normal person. And he knew he couldn't do that, so he was stuck here.

He didn't wait for Tris to read the note, he just went straight to the bathroom.

By the time he was back, the pile that was Tris hadn't moved, but the note had disappeared. Four smiled softly before making his way to the cafeteria.

As Tris heard the door click closed, she stirred lazily, too pained to get out of bed. She was fucking tired. She hadn't slept, but the pillows proved to be made out of anti-suffocation material, so overall, her night had been pretty useless. Just like the pasts few days. Just like her life. Pointless. She just didn't understand. She was gonna die anyway, they were all going to Hell, anyways. So why did she have to wait? Why did she have to stay and be beaten more when the suffering could just be over? But Four had an answer. He had a really great answer. Tris didn't know that.

She forced one foot in front of the other, throwing on a sweatshirt somewhere in between his journey from her bed to the door. It was a long, stressing journey. But she survived, nonetheless. And that was something to be proud of. Not really. She didn't know. She didn't care. Same thing.

She had journeyed down the hallway, not acknowledging the multiple nurses passing by him. She didn't even turn around when he heard Dr. Pedrad call her. But she stopped, anyway. She didn't want to cause a scene. She was too tired for that. Too overwhelmed.

Dr. Stump caught up to her quickly, although he came up beside her a little out of breath.

"Just letting you know," he panted, "sorry, I haven't gotten much exercise lately. Whew! Anyway, you have a scheduled meeting with...um," he fumbled through his pocket, "ahah! Mr. Max."

"Just warning you," he said, leaning in like he was telling her a secret, "he's a bit of a prick, but he's all we've got, sorry."

Tris didn't looked up from the ground, keeping her eyes trained on the tile.

"You really should."

"What? I should be sorry? Because I am, I really am, but according to our policy, there's no possible way for me to-"

"You really should exercise. I mean-not that you're fat or anything, just that anyone with a job in medicine should be healthy, themselves, you know?"

"Yes, I think I'm following."

"Good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

"Okay."

"Alright...well, Tris. See you later!" He waved a short motion that looked like a dance move from Grease. Tris had always wanted to be in a musical. No chances of that now, though.

Well, at least not for a while. Or ever. Same thing.

The rest of Tris's morning flew by. You know what they say: time flies by when you're having fun. That had absolutely nothing to do with what happened. Tris just simply sat outside of Four's room during music therapy. She could've sworn she could hear something like a voice coming from the other side of the door, but she had also been pretty sure that she was a Hawaiian hula dancer at one drunk point, so she learned not to trust herself anymore. She didn't even know what to believe sometimes. She didn't know who to trust. Same thing.

By the time she was out of the same room as the lawyer, Mr. Max, she was about ready to stab someone. She was fucking pissed, storming through the halls until she got to her room.

It would have been nice to see blood again. Four had left an extra notebook in his dresser, and it didn't take long for Tris to find it. Her original plan was to draw, her only form of self expression left. It was a different picture than she usually drew. She was used to seeing her work as angry, gory depictions of her struggles. But this one, it was... It was pained. Slower, almost standing still. Slowly dying. Same thing.

She hadn't noticed she was bleeding until it splattered onto the faces in the drawing. She stopped to glance at her finger, a paper cut oozing blood slowly. The pencil and drawing pad dropped from her hands and clattered onto the floor. Tris stared at her bleeding finger. Before it began to clot, she smeared the blood on her finger and turned to the white wall she was leaning against. T.

She jumped when the door opened, revealing a defeated looking Four.

"Hey."

Four nodded slightly and made his way across the room, noticing the notebook on the floor. Then, he noticed the blood. He turned around, and Tris was gone, already locked in the bathroom. Well, there weren't any locks, but she sat against the door so that Four couldn't budge it open.

Four tried with all his might to open the door, but his weak frame didn't do anything. He eventually gave up and passed a note under the door. He felt Tris pick it up and could almost see her reading it.

"I don't wanna open the door. Are you mad at me? Oh god, if you don't kill me, someone is definitely going to."

Another note. It reminded Four of the ticket machines at Chucke-Cheese's. He stuck a note in, and whatever black hole was on the other side swallowed it up.

"It's just a paper cut, I swear! Okay, it looks really, really bad on the wall, yeah, but I didn't...ugh. I don't know what I was thinking, or wasn't thinking."

Another note. The door budged open slowly. Tris's face appeared between the door frame and the door, smiling nervously. Four returned the smile and sat forward to be closer to Tris. Tris leaned away from Four cautiously, not knowing what he was doing, but Four only leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his companion in a gentle, comforting hug.

Tris only nudged a Four that happened to be sleeping on her shoulder when the dinner bell rang hours later. The sleeping Four's eyes fluttered open, before closing and then flying open. He jumped backwards from Tris, hitting his head on the sink. He groaned and sighed, rubbing his head. Tris laughed and stood up, holding out a hand to Four. Four took it and stood. Together, they walked to dinner in a slightly less awkward silence.


	36. Chapter 36: Thinking about thinking

**Chapter 36:**

 _ **Oh god, I'm horrible at this (writing in general). Love you all :)**_

Tris woke with a start. A too familiar feeling was rising in her stomach and climbing up her throat. She ran for the bathroom but wasn't able to get anything out. She sat, dry heaving, until her throat was raw. The room had begun to spin and shift in and out of focus. She shook her head and cleared her mind. The clarity didn't last long. The slow, unfocused spinning began again, and Tris could feel herself losing balance. She stumbled from the bathroom and into her room. Managing to grab the handle of the door and swing herself into the hallway, she found it impossible to move silently. She had lost awareness of her surroundings and her own actions, letting her feet drag her wherever they would go. Soon, she was standing in front of two doors, most likely locked.

After much struggling and confusion, she had pried the doors open. She wasn't even sure how she did it, she just...did. She wasn't sure of anything anymore, but she still let her feet lead the way. She heard distant footsteps. She had to hurry. She grabbed what she had come for, shoving it under her shirt. She stumbled back out the door, managing to relock them just in time. She raced down the hall, aware of her footsteps echoing softly. But she was confused. And lost. She didn't know where she was. Or what the date was. Or who she was. All she knew was that if she stopped running, something bad would happen. Stopping=bad. Simple. But not for someone who didn't know her own fucking name. She flung open a random door that her feet halted in front of, half-surprised to see a breathing, alive figure across the room. Thankfully, it was not stirred by the racket, moving only to avoid the dim light seeping through the doorway.

Tris sighed and stuffed the item hastily under some sweatshirts on the top shelf of the closet. She couldn't stay longer. She really felt sick. She raced out the door, hoping to end up in a bathroom, but ended up finding herself back in the hallway. The footsteps were growing louder but were relatively slow. The room was spinning faster, forcing Tris onto the ground. Tris looked down and managed to catch a glimpse of her shirt in the moonlight. There was a dark stain on the pale grey of the stomach. Blood. It was pretty, it'd been awhile since Tris had last seen her own blood. She let out a low chuckle. But it was a chuckle that rang throughout an entire body, created tsunamis on the other side of the world, pierced the heart of anyone who dared listen.

That was the last thing Tris did before the world turned black, and the darkness enclosed her.

Four was pretty sure something was wrong. He had woken up suddenly, stale tears dried in a path streaming down his cheeks. He wiped his face and turned to his one source of comfort. That wasn't there. He knew something was definitely wrong when he searched the bathroom, finding it vacant. The sun had not yet risen, but a shallow light drifted in from the falling moon. The room was empty. Four's nightmare had come true again. He was alone. But what really worried him was the mysterious case of the missing roommate. He knew the strict rules of curfew and when he was permitted out of his room. Four thought he wasn't willing to risk it, but she was gone and Four was alone, so...something wasn't right.

Four silently slid open the door, half scared of being caught, and half scared of what he might find. He was ready to go after a series of breathing exercises that Dr. Pedrad had taught him. One thing Dr. Pedrad was good for. He dashed out, almost slipping on the too-clean tile floors. He had not traveled more than a few hallways before he spotted what he had been dreading.

Before him lay a crumpled body, alive but barely breathing. The shirt was stained with blood, the head hanging at an awkward angle. The face was illuminated by the moonlight, setting a creepy, pale glow. Four was standing at the other end of the hallway, but he couldn't move his feet. He heard footsteps and turned, only to be blinded by a flashlight. He had been caught. But that didn't matter. The security guard was yelling at him, but he didn't hear it. He didn't see the light anymore, all he saw was his companion, or what was left of her. He did the only thing he could think to do. He ran.

The security guard was faster than he had calculated. Within a few seconds, Four was tackled. But the security guard didn't know he wasn't running away but only running to another person. The security guard tried to get him to his feet, yelling at him. But Four only struggled to get closer to his destination. The guard twisted his arms painfully behind his back, but Four fought. He squirmed and kicked and tried so hard. All he wanted was to save his friend. The security guard was stronger than him. He had an iron grip that never relented. But Four didn't give up, his determination pulsing through him. He was able to kick free of the grip, but he hadn't made it far before his face slammed into the tile once again. This time, the security guard kept most of his weight on top of Four's body. Four struggled beneath the crushing force, switching between kicking and squirming. He managed to get to his feet, breathing heavily. He ran as hard as he could, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, sure that he would make it. But hands wrapped around his stomach, sending him flying backwards and back to where he had started. On the ground. Being crushed. He didn't stop struggling until he heard what the security guard was saying for the first time.

"Give it up, kid. You'll never get out of here."

Those words crushed Four. He stopped struggling altogether, afraid to even think. He didn't want to think, he didn't want to process anything, he didn't want to save anyone anymore. He was done. Just as done as he had been on his birthday the year before.

"What's your name, kid?"

Four didn't answer. He couldn't. He was an idiot who forgot his stupid notebook in his room.

He was stranded on an island in the middle of the silent hallway. The security guard had backed off of him after realizing that he wasn't going to run. He stood up and stretched out a hand to pull Four up. Four still didn't move from his spot, so the guard started walking toward the side of the hallway that they had entered from.

"Come on, kid. Let's go; it's past midnight."

Four was staring straight ahead at the body. It was now invisible in the shadows, the moonlight shifting and fading into slow sunshine.

"Come on, kid. Last warning before I'm picking up and dragging you." By now, he was standing about fifteen feet away. Four's mind finally set off a trigger. In one motion, he stepped off the ground and sprinted the last thirty feet to his destination. The guard lagged a few seconds, but he eventually caught up. Not before Four was able to get to her. The guard was heading straight for Four, but he lost his balance when the boy halted suddenly in the corner. The guard tumbled down, flicking on his flashlight to see the boy. But he didn't see one pretty fucked up teenager, he saw two pretty fucked up teenagers and eyes that were almost spilling over with tears.

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Shut that fucking alarm clock off, Caleb. Do it, or I will end you." The last thing Tris wanted right then was to open her eyes. Sleep was such a nice option, very reliable and helpful, at that. But the last thing the universe wanted right then was for Tris to be happy. So it put her in a pickle. Caleb wasn't turning off the alarm clock, and Tris couldn't sleep if she 1) opened her eyes and 2) turned off the alarm herself and 3) there was a fucking alarm clock-

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Just fucking turn it off, already! I don't need your shit this morning, okay? I had a bad dream and I need more..."

Tris didn't finish her sentence. She was determined to keep her eyes closed. No way was she getting up now.

"Caleb?"

Her one word of hope got no response. Tris sighed and drifted back to sleep. She needed another hour of sleep before she could even begin thinking about thinking.


	37. Chapter 37: Speak

**Chapter 37:**

"Alright, Ms. Prior. So, it seems like you have a few injuries, but now that you have regained consciousness, your recovery will be much faster. Now, you are in no way in trouble for what happened, but-"

"Wait. What _happened?_ " Tris blinked hard as the nurse bombarded her with too many words in too little time.

"Well," the nurse hesitated, "that's not important right now."

Tris sighed loudly and threw her hands up in the air.

"Everyone is expecting me to get better, but it's actually really really really hard to recover when I have a giant hole in my memory where the entirety of yesterday and the day before should be! If someone could please tell me what the _fuck_ is going on, I would really appreciate it."

"Ms. Prior, the doctors here believe that it is best that you recover before you understand the events of what happened. We do not think that you acquiring any more knowledge is beneficial to your recovery."

Before she could speak further, a door slammed on the opposite side of the room. The sound sent a wave of shock through Tris. The nurse jumped before turning and softening her face.

There was a curtain blocking Tris's view of the door - and the visitor - but the nurse had a clear view of the doorway. She excused herself, leaving Tris with an 'I'll give you two some privacy' and a horrible mystery of whoever the person behind the curtain was for about three seconds. Then, she caught a glimpse of the person.

A smile crept onto her face.

"Finally, someone who can do me some justice!"

Four didn't respond, Tris hadn't really been expecting him to. But something was wrong. Four didn't smile back. His face didn't twitch. He was visibly torn between emotions. He looked furious, but he was trying to maintain a neutral expression. It wasn't working, his face continuing to contort in anger.

The smile fell from Tris's face. She was confused, she had absolutely no idea what she had done to make Four so upset, but her stomach twisted in worry. The room was so silent, so quiet; the noise killed Tris's ears. Time stopped. She couldn't hear her own heartbeat; she was pretty sure it had stopped pumping, too. Color drained from her face, and she couldn't move. Four's eyes pierced her straight to the bone. She was frightened.

Finally, Four's mouth opened. He quickly shut it and walked around to the side of Tris's bed. It was in that moment when Tris noticed a bundle in Four's hand. Four reached into the middle of the folded sweatshirt. His face was inches from Tris'. She could feel his breath on her skin. Tris's eyes flicked down to Four's hand. Her entire body stiffened. Time froze again, but this time, she could feel her heartbeat accelerating to lightning speeds.

The next moment happened so fast, Tris couldn't even process it until Four had left.

Four's free hand swept upwards and caught under Tris's chin. Their eyes met and locked. Her head was angled uncomfortably upwards. There was a silver flash in the corner of Tris's eye. Before she could react, there was a cold sensation on her neck. She didn't dare breathe.

There was a glint in Four's eyes, undeniable, yet indecipherable. One thing was for sure; it was dangerous.

"What the _fuck_ is this?"

Four. Five words. A knife. Tris. Four had said five words. Four had a knife. The same knife that Tris had clutched so tightly to her chest. That same knife, Tris's knife, was now against her neck. Tris's knife was held against her own neck by a mute boy who had just spoken. Wonderful.


	38. Chapter 38: The boy

**Chapter 38: Super short sorry guys! Your support is amazing thank you guys so much!**

Tris almost told Four to do it. To just end it right there and then, slit her throat and end her misery. But right now, the knife was in Four's hands. The ball was in his court.

Right now, Four was dangerous. No shit, there was a _knife_ in his _hand_ , but what scared Tris was that there wasn't even the slightest tremble in Four's fingertips. His hand was perfectly steady, fingers wrapped tightly around the handle.

They faced each other for what felt like years, daring the other to make a bold move, but nothing happened. The air was stagnant as neither resumed breathing. In a fluid flash of movement, Four's arm whipped back, snapping forward as he flung the knife through the air. Tris watched with wide eyes as the knife lodged itself above one of the cots lining the opposite side of the room. Four straightened his clothes and left swiftly, a long since forgotten sweatshirt, the only indicator of his presence, still in a heap on the ground.

Tris blinked slowly. Her eyes drifted from the slammed door to the knife, then back to the door. She reached her hand up to her neck, feeling an indent in her skin. She laughed quietly, slowly turning her laughter from a small chuckle to the point where her stomach was twisting.

Her lungs burned, her ribs aching as they held her soul in before she exploded completely.

A boy, the boy, had just held a knife to her neck. A boy, the boy, had just spoken. A silent boy, _the_ silent boy, had spoken.


	39. Chapter 39: Encounter

**Chapter 39:**

Four's hands still hasn't stopped shaking. His mind was still racing, replaying the event in his head over and over and over again.

It had been three days since he saw Tris, but he had neither the guts, nor the pride to see her again. He sure as hell looked like shit; he had barely slept, his hair sticking out at random angles, his arms and legs were - still - covered in bruises and scabs and scratches and scars. Just because he was in a mental institution didn't mean he was better. He wasn't happy or healthy or safe. But he wasn't dead.

And just because he was in a mental institution didn't mean he didn't have his fists or fingernails. Just because he was in a mental institution didn't mean he was free of himself, of his _diseased_ mind.

He rounded the corner for lunch, drumming his hands on his thighs to hide the shaking. He had been there for too long, yet never had he once felt this much like shit. Honestly, he was scared. Scared for himself, scared of himself, and scared for Tris. He froze before sharply turning on his heel, already tracing his steps back to his room. It was too late, he had been seen.

"Four?"

He didn't know why Caleb was here. He didn't know how he found him or the institution. He thought he had cut off all ties before doing _it._ There was literally no possible explanation for why Caleb was here.

He broke into a run, racing the halls that he knew all too well. After he received many, many yells from the nurses, he slowed his pace and ducked into the nearest room. That room just so happened to be the infirmary.

The knife had long since been removed. Tris had played stupid, acting completely taken aback by the knife that had somehow made its way into the room and stuck into the wall directly opposite of her.

She was now avoiding conversation with the nurses by acting asleep. She was almost recovered, but she still felt like shit. As per usual.

Her eyes flickered open when she heard a door close, but quickly shut before the visitor noticed she was conscious. Especially because this new person was the last person she wanted to engage in conversation with.

Four had barely closed the door before he started panicking again. At least he was focusing on something while running. Now, there was too much time to think. He had seen his friend from high school. Actually, one of his closest friends. His _best_ friend. Four hadn't had that many friends, and the ones he did have weren't ever close enough to invite him over. But Caleb had recognized Four well enough.

Caleb stood, staring at the spot where Four had just fled. He was almost positive it was Four, but what was he doing here? He hadn't seen or heard from Four in at least a year, so seeing him while visiting his sister was quite a shock. But, no. It couldn't have been Four. Four had told him he was going to California or something for college. There's no way it could have been Four. And with that reassurance, Caleb makes his way to visit his sister in the infirmary.


	40. Chapter 40: So this is where you've been

**Chapter 40:**

Tris lay as still as possible, listening to what was happening. She heard the door open for a second time.

"Four?"

She knew that voice. Wait, she _knew_ that voice. It belonged to the sweetest person she knew.

She heard a chair squeak and footsteps ensue.

"No, wait! Four, don't go! It really is you."

Four stopped trying to escape, instead squirming away from the iron grip Caleb had secured around his forearm.

"I haven't seen you in forever! What are you doing here? I'm here to visit, but who are you visiting?"

At that moment, a nurse poked her head through the door. Tris heard her speak.

"Mr. Eaton. It's time for lunch."

Four nodded, grateful for a reason to escape. He started towards the door, but the nurse stopped him.

"It's alright, you can finish up here and come a little late. But," she turned to Caleb, "who are you? Are you Ms. Prior's visitor?"

"Yes Ma'am." Caleb nodded his head and waved her a goodbye. She exited the room as Caleb turned to Four. He had shrunken into a chair, curling his knees into his chest.

"So. You're here, then."

Four nodded.

"Well, have you been here for a while?" Another nod. Four made a motion and Caleb understood, handing him his phone. He watched as Four typed out a message.

"Yeah, I know Tris. Actually, probably a little too well. We should never be in a room together again." He read Four's message.

"What? Ew, she's my sister!" Caleb saw Four visually relax a bit at that comment. "Ha, I pity whoever she ends up dating! Seriously, though, she's a weirdo." Four nodded and made a motion towards the bed.

"Yeah. Wait a second," He turned to Tris. "You do know that you can open up your eyes now, right? You're really not fooling anyone."

Tris's eyes flew open in shock. Was she really that bad an actor?

Any thoughts soon faded as she laid eyes on her brother.

"Caleb! I missed you!"

"Oh, really?" Caleb crossed his arms in front of his body, his face growing cold. "Because last time I visited you, you didn't even look at me." At this point, Four was already halfway to the cafeteria, finally being able to breathe again. He made his way to a corner table and sank as low as possible into his seat. He groaned at the awkwardness that had just been forcibly shoved into his life, groaning once again as he saw the reflection of someone behind him in the window. He turned around and saw Christina, smiling at him in greeting.

"Hey, Four. S'been awhile, huh?" When she was met with Four's downcast eyes and short nod, she pulled out a chair and plopped down.

"Yeah, I've been pretty busy lately, I guess. I figure you have, too. Anyway, I came to tell you that our good friend has left us today to rejoin the outside world. Lucky bastard, I'm gonna miss her, that snugly princess Tory." Christina's eyes rested on the floor as she thought of all of the days she had just sat and talked to her roommate for hours. It had been nice, but it was over. She stood and patted Four on the back, leaning over to speak in a low voice.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to go and visit her. You know, after we get the fuck out of here."


	41. Chapter 41: Bored

**Chapter 41:**

There were a good amount of adolescents at Divergent. Well, enough to form a Group Therapy Class for Teenagers and Young Adults. They only ever really interacted with each other during group therapy, so when Tris butted into a situation she probably shouldn't have, she had no way of knowing who was involved.

Tris had never liked bullies. She had never liked interfering with attempts at a peace talk and automatically being punched before any words had the chance to escape. She had also never liked standing off to the side, witnessing someone else get bullied. She believed it was just as much a crime as actually inflicting the pain. And she decided to stand by her motto while wandering the halls of Divergent. She had been stuffed up in her room for a while, drafting a new possible picture book idea. She, unfortunately, wasn't creative, and she very much needed a break.

She was wandering the halls, still lost despite the many weeks of being at Divergent. She didn't have much to do. She was bored, Four was talking to Dr. Pedrad, it was too cold to do anything, and Tris was bored. Bored bored bored. She had just turned the corner into the lounge. It was 12:43; the nurses should have been changing shifts about then. Still, what was it with unsupervised kids in mental institutions?

There were people. A few entities: Tris, her grumbling stomach, Eric, his posse, and another kid with his back turned. The boy was slouched over, indicating to Tris that the three kids surrounding him weren't exactly his BFFLs. They seemed to be in the middle of a conversation (it wasn't a nice one), and Tris once again returned to her place just behind the corner. She was very skilled in the art of eavesdropping; not having many friends in high school kinda enhances those abilities remarkably.

"Well," she heard Eric saying in his annoying, made-to-piss-you-off voice, "you shouldn't have pissed me off, then." Huh, did she say that outloud? Nah, her lips were pressed together so hard, she couldn't have.

The boy, meanwhile, cocked his head in confusion.

"Oh, you don't need to do anything to piss me off, just having you around does the job."

Tris didn't like bullies, but if they had a purpose, such as revenge, she filed them into the "strongly dislike" mind-cabinet versus the "pure hatred" mind-cabinet. She didn't understand why anyone hurt people for no apparent reason. She was sure that this kid was innocent. And because she was a genius that everyone so obviously loved and adored, she decided to butt in.

The boys were still throwing insults at him when Tris attempted a casual stroll around the corner. But because she was also a graceful ballerina, she tripped on the leg of a chair, tumbling to the ground. Thankfully, she recovered quickly, but Eric, indubitably, had seen. As had everyone else. The boy had turned around but whipped to face away once Tris glanced over. She decided stealth was off the table. She casually sat in a chair and picked up one of the dusty, worn magazines. Ugh, _Teen Pop_. She wished that the world would actually do something with their billions of lives instead of allowing half of the population to waste their time obsessing over some Beaver guy or something. _Focus, Tris_. Right. She snapped her eyes shut and opened them wide, making a small hum as if intrigued by a certain outdated fun fact about koalas. She wasn't there to complain about the world's poor judgement, she was there to stand up for her peer...yes.

The boys had turned back to the poor kid, returning to hissing insults at him, but refraining from touching him. They probably were reprimanded for the first day Tris was there. Still, no supervision, though. That just pissed off Tris. But she wasn't necessarily in a spot to complain about safety. She _was_ locked in a mental institution, after all. Alright, time to save the day.


End file.
